Wednesday, January 26, 2011


I watch the pain behind those eyes
the tears fall as she begins to cry.
It isn't fair, why must he die?
I ask myself and I continue to cry.

I run to my room,
it's too much to handle,
This good young man,
This nice young groom.

I pray to God,
ask him to take me instead,
I have nothing ahead of me,
Not even a piece of bread.

My life is going downhill,

No job,

No money,

No food,

No clothes.

I have lived enough,
I have breathed too much.
He's far too young to experience death,
Perhaps it shall be me instead.

I watch the pain behind those eyes,
The tears fall as she continues to cry.
I punch the mirror,
And it begins to rain glass.

I watch through the reflection,
I see that poor woman.
She picks up some glass.


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