16000
He bled out like a wounded lion,
fighting with fists as blood filled his lungs
His mothered screamed until there was silence
As if she lay with him in the morgue
16
I had seen the back of my mother leave
Blonde curls bouncing to a station
Now on another part of London
I now saw the footprints my friend had left on our steps
He trod in paint that day
So I wondered if the path was as white and green and gold as his laughter, ripulets down the Thames
The beef was over a phone
Worthless now and his sister is a lawyer
My gut churns when I see their hooded faces gathered in rememberance without knowing his name
I am not acknoweldge no longer a desire for road man
Just a woman passing by
Their stories was mine
I recall him opening his pants one day to say ''just touch it'', I pushed him away
We played Rumi glinting eyes of dreams over cards and rum too young
I think to myself when I age and I am in the Caribbean with a rum and cards
Will you be there?
Laughing through the waves, of mighty sea rippling with all the other brothers lost
Whose life meant they got to see from starlight as opposed to eyelid.
