Disclaimer: This poem was inspired by John Proctor's Character Arthur Miller's The Crucible. I do not own a thing! Enjoy !
Chronicle of John Proctor
A bunch of wild gossip spread about town,
Like a fire in a dry field.
It will scorch the lives of some,
While others accuse for a shield.
One spring day, Cheever came by,
A warrant was issued.
For my wife to be tried of supernatural crime
Her safety was not ensured.
Elizabeth is a Christian woman,
Her values are upright and good.
I'll go to Salem, to end this dispute,
So her life will proceed as it should.
The judge states my wife is with child,
They've given her a year.
Still, I need to expose the facts,
So the motives of "witchcraft" are clear.
The court is in hysteria,
All for vengeance of a whore.
The search for the truth is futile,
My secret is not worth keeping anymore.
I've told the court of my lechery,
One of the ultimate sins.
I did not tell an important witness,
My wife, my next of kin.
The Lord curses every liar,
But the little bonnets every claim.
Is a sham of freezing and fainting fits,
It's a mystery what's done in God's name.
According to the girls, I am the Devil's man
Lucifer's Spirits come from my head
The ideas of morality have come to shambles,
So I scream that "God is Dead!"*
Danforth sets the paper in front of me,
To sign the confession; I know what's at stake.
They'll make me a show of hypocrisy ,
My family shouldn't suffer for my mistake.
As I stand upon the platform,
The coiled rope won't budge.
Exonerated from a blush name,
Heaven shall be my judge.
* This line is taken directly from The Crucible p.119
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