One woman's search for knowledge, truth, beauty, serenity, peace, harmony and all that crap.
for a dear friend who still isn't ready to read it
Published on May 26, 2007 By Ms Mitchell In Poetry

Twenty years ago today
I was killed and you were not
You still grieve—Stop it, Dork!

You let me sit up front
Even though I was
The younger brother—way to go, Ace!

You knew I was dead
Even before the drunk
Drove up the off ramp—well, Duh!

You partied too hard and drove too fast
Trying to catch up to me
But you couldn’t make the jump to dead—Klutz!

You put me on the mantle
Jammin’ on my bari-sax
Even dead, I’m cooler than you—Nerd!

You smell lemon Pledge
And you think I’m in that box
With satin lining—I’m not, Doofus!

You didn’t kill me
Your premonition saved you
That’s what it’s there for—Retard!

You were supposed to live
You might want to get on that.
I may be Spirit, but I can still kick your ass
I miss you, too—Knucklehead!

Comments
on May 27, 2007
Great stuff, MsM.


I agree
on May 27, 2007
wowee zowee... good read, tore at my heart strings, I agree with whip she should see this.
on May 27, 2007
immediate reaction; speechless.

After absorption I just wanted to cry, I still do.
on May 27, 2007
Thank you all for reading it. It's hard to see someone still carrying the guilt for a brother's death, still convinced the wrong kid was killed.
on May 29, 2007
Stunned by the power of this one.

The difference between an artist and a technician is the willingness one possesses to make oneself vulnerable; in short, the risks one is prepared to take in creation.

You am an artist extraordinaire,

Thanks for sharing your gift,
Buddah the Moskowitz
on May 30, 2007
Thanks Buddha.

I'm looking forward to summer vacation and more time to spend writing.