let's begin.

let's begin with death.
it is obvious and red
and hot, and let me tell
you, god does it burn.

it is hard, and i am sure
you've seen pictures,
but have you felt the warmth
in your home evaporate
with the news of an
impersonal homecoming?

(do you know what it's like
to trace the contour of a
brothersonfatherunclelover
with eyes that will never meet?)

and the tears, tears that wither
away before they can fall,
because there are too many,
and it's too soon and there is
just not enough room,

for them at all.

and with empty eyes, you feel;
and i believe very little
of what is written for you.

i believe in pain, for we have
felt it; and i believe in
goodbyes, though sometimes
they are never achieved; and
i believe in death, because it
is ringing from the top of my
lungs and aching from the core
of my country.

i blame you, mister president,
for not knowing what death is.

10/02/2004

Author's Note: i'm ready for change and i'm ready to see all americans back home.

Posted on 10/02/2004
Copyright © 2024 Lauren Pearl