Hate consumes the boy, frustration overcomes him,
unable to stop the assault, angst becomes the heart.
Dreams of justice, revenge even with his own hands,
fear of the spiral that follows, inaction allows the suffering to continue.
“Fix me a drink”, the man bellows
slumped in his chair, awareness dissipating.
Mindfully he goes to the cabinet and chooses the exact bottle
careful with the measurements, history as a guide.
Staring at the glass the resentment takes over,
just a pinch of the death forces the hell to take flight.
Carefully stirring, not leaving a trace,
no turning back now, the deed is done.
Proudly the offering is presented, has he gone too far?
Options exhausted, no other choice.
Setting the glass down before the man,
moment of kindness, he offers thanks.
Reaching for the glass, his movements impaired,
spills the drink,”clean this up” speaks evil.
He returns with a towel, the man’s eyes asleep,
inward relief the endeavor not done.
Tomorrow the boy’s horror resumes.
Writing Jobs said,
January 25, 2012 at 8:16 pm
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