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my father's name, down the drain. my mother's heart, picked apart. my old friend, lost, no chance to mend. we cowards commit our crimes in circles. we cowards are blind, deaf, yet loud. his father, his mother, once second parents to me, left sleepless and ashamed to know me. a redheaded girl, who i never had a chance to know let her tears go. her mother burning, anger at my abuse, deserving. my old friend confused, asking himself, "was it distance that divided us?" we cowards, so used to the constant grind of our lives, never seek to make anew. we cowards let it build. let it fall. let the remains rust. let our pride run wild. let our eyes shut. let our ears close. let our hearts go cold. if i thought i was dead before, i'm about to learn what it really means to disappear. i feel the judges whispering condemnation. i feel the pointing fingers, the claims of high treason. this coward is sorry. but no apology will ever justify, no eulogy will ever satisfy your view of the guilty. this coward is willing. willing to listen, willing to feel your pain, willing to die, die tonight, if just one of you saw it as gain.
0
Jun 4, 2010
Jun 4, 2010 at 9:56 PM UTC
we cowards
my father's name, down the drain. my mother's heart, picked apart. my old friend, lost, no chance to mend. we cowards commit our crimes in circles. we cowards are blind, deaf, yet loud. his father, his mother, once second parents to me, left sleepless and ashamed to know me. a redheaded girl, who i never had a chance to know let her tears go. her mother burning, anger at my abuse, deserving. my old friend confused, asking himself, "was it distance that divided us?" we cowards, so used to the constant grind of our lives, never seek to make anew. we cowards let it build. let it fall. let the remains rust. let our pride run wild. let our eyes shut. let our ears close. let our hearts go cold. if i thought i was dead before, i'm about to learn what it really means to disappear. i feel the judges whispering condemnation. i feel the pointing fingers, the claims of high treason. this coward is sorry. but no apology will ever justify, no eulogy will ever satisfy your view of the guilty. this coward is willing. willing to listen, willing to feel your pain, willing to die, die tonight, if just one of you saw it as gain.
Copyright 2009 by Joshua J. Hutton
jj-hutton
Written by
jj-hutton
American
Jun 4, 2010
Jun 4, 2010 at 9:56 PM UTC
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