"Why oh why?' is what everyone answered.
" Do you have any words to say about him?"

I guess I'll start by saying...
People knew him,
Yet they did not know him.
I think I knew him best,
I was connected to that beating muscle
Sulking beneath his chest.

I adored all he loved,
I squinced at all he hated.
I laughed when he basked in joy,
I would become solemn when he teared.
I was always with him.

I doubt you all knew
The rage that surged through his veins,
I doubt you all knew
His soul further passed away,
With each and every day.

Please dont take this the wrong way,
I don't intend to spite.
He often hid from the ones he loved.
I believe he thought his pain
Would only bring down everyone,

So he shielded everyone from his most dark thoughts.
Please don't blame yourself for not knowing.

He showed only
an ounce of emotion in person.
His deepest thoughts and emotions  
Dwell in the art he disclosed.

Every line, every character he concocted...

You noticed some form of misery,
Some form of longing to surrender,
A longing not to be a part of a world
That was too overbearing for him.
He believed he didn't belong,

But when most of us read his poetry,
If we ever read it at all,
We didn't think too much of it.
Totally oblivious to the pain behind his poetry.

We must reminisce,
We must reflect on every moment
We shared with him.
A moment never truly ends.

Originally written 6/5/11
Revised 10/14/2014

(c) 2014 Brandon Antonio Smith