I really wonder everytime
How they feel
When they crush every norm’s entities
Is this part of a ritual you religiously do?
Do you smirk or grin everytime you did?
Do you feel better perceiving lives too see them ache?
You do don’t you?

Why?
Because you've been there
You felt that pain, that agony that preludes
That melancholy past precedes you everytime
"Why always me?"
Why do you end up in bruises and blood-
Dripping from beginning to the end?
End?
No!
There’s no end to this
Unless you make it stop

But why relay the pain on others?
You created that villain in your head
You've become what you hate
Do you like that?
Making others suffer for what ‘they' did

You were once good
You still are
Well your pretense won an Oscar for the 'Ignorant'(s)
They know what you did
You broke their wings and the mettle they believed in
They don’t want to lose a 'Friend' like you
Their courage demised never to prevail again
You became this (****)tator
Which everyone obliged cowardly

But be reminded
Like every TV Show
The Hero always wins
Karma will be chasing you
Waiting for the right moment to expose you
You will get the retribution you deserved

You will cry
Remorse will elevate in your senses
And Every Name, Every Face, Every Sound
*Will be remembered to those you maimed.

i'm sure you could imagine,
the new proud parents' joy.
when the doctor finally announced,
"you have a baby boy"

as she held him in her arms,
all their worries were erased.
they didn't know then,
of the troubles they would face.

"i'm sorry i have to be the one to say,
your little boy has cancer.
i know that life seems hard today,
things are always worse before the get better."

endless hours of chemotherapy,
hospitals becoming a second home.
dozens of tests to check his status,
he was watched but felt so alone.

some days he felt big and strong,
and other days trapped in hell.
it was in the little boy's smile,
the way that you could tell.

and though the boy was small in size,
he fought with all his might.
the cancer's strength he matched for awhile,
he put up a pretty good fight.

time of death, 4:12

his mother smoothed down his hair,
and kissed him on his cheek.
the tears rolled down her face,
she'd never felt so weak.

his father felt his son's heart beat,
then fall silent just as fast.
he had been there for his son's first,
and he had felt his son's last.