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Jun 2010
my father's name,
down the drain.

my mother's heart,
picked apart.

my old friend,
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

a redheaded girl,
who i never had
a chance to know
let her tears go.

her mother burning,
anger at my

my old friend confused,
asking himself,
"was it distance that
divided us?"

we cowards,
so used to the
constant grind of our
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
i'm about to learn what
it really means to disappear.

i feel the judges whispering

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  Colorado Springs, CO, USA
(Colorado Springs, CO, USA)   
   Bernadette and ---
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