The family cries and laughs
however I am incapable of both.
Everyone will grieve and heal
yet the numb of your absence I loathe.
...
Funerals are strange to me
Stunning the significance of a man no longer
...
The redundancy undoubtedly shouts at me.
Nothing more to see, crying to be set free.
...
All before the blue king
Gripping, reaching, his kingdom blossoms
...
Already anticipating agnostic ancestry
Badly bruised boy, battling bravery
...
Farewell, My Friend
The family cries and laughs
however I am incapable of both.
Everyone will grieve and heal
yet the numb of your absence I loathe.
Quick to make us smile, even when
you're not here.
The family toasts in your honor.
Emotions drowned in beer.
My mother says she'll get help
but as always, it's 15 minutes too late.
Poetry was always your thing,
but my words, on occasion, ring with broken fate.
I'm glad you wrote the things you did
instead of burying them in cans and needles.
I'm sure who ever reads this may relate.
Unlike the other kids, I sit longing for a tear
in essence afraid of harboring emotion,
afraid of crippling my pre-tainted future years.
I mean no harm in these words
but for the sake of truth I can't tell what I mean.
Perhaps my last chance to say goodbye
to my brother who may now fly high.
Needle like a gun, you come to your end
after all of these solemn years
I say farewell, my friend.