Was I the one that started the fire?
Pain and Guilt
As the sun hides
behind the cloudy mask
you hid behind
the silver flask.
Oh! brother mine
I hope you're doing fine
I choke up to imagine
and break as I write next line.
Our mother cries in silent,
dark rooms that fills our home.
You took with you a family, father's glee
dad jokes and left us in cursed tomb.
yet still through your mess I comb
and find the wicked traces of aplomb
of your curse, your thirst to be numb
to screeching agony climbing out of our eyes
all through our heart as we saw you dying.
I wonder if your heart is still crying
caressing your sacred pain
you treasure so; in vain
I watched your many dreams slain
but so were mine,
don't try and find
go back and rewind
and find excuses.
Oh! brother mine
you wanted brine
-blood to intertwine
with what we share.
maybe a blame as well.
This is my day 82 entry of the 100 days of poetry by @d-pend from SteemitSchool.
If you like what I'm doing here, help me out to get me some visibility and add me to your steemvoter or bring me a @curie vote like @rasamuel did which @f3nix thought I deserved and supported me through frustration. It's been more than four month of this.
goddamnit.