may 4th, 2001 / eleven fifty five pm

the serenity of solitude
as rain falls outside the window
pen in hand
crumpled paper on the floor
incomplete, troubled thoughts in his mind

look past all the confusion
the burning fireplace
the loud music
the empty liquor bottles
look at the boy

watch him as he loses his innocence
watch him lose his faith
watch as he learns the burden he must bear
as he learns about being a "man"

daddy told him to shut his mouth
to never say a word
that all dads do this with their sons

daddy told him it was supposed to hurt
"it will make you a man son"
and
"this is the way the world works"

now look at that boy.
as he dangles from the celing,
pen,
now fallen from his hand,
skin,
white,
and cold.

so this is growing up?
i'd rather die young.

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