I sit,and I wait.

I sit here waiting,wondering if the time is near. The time when he can no longer take the words from your mouth. Words that twist like daggers in his soul, thrust from hands that never thought twice. Never thought that, maybe, those sharp, blood-soaked words would be the last time. 

I sit here, waiting. Would you be so disdainful as Cain? That you would kill your own brother, a brother who sat in the same room, who ate the same food, whose entire life had yet to be unveiled, but in a desperate measure to escape the thunderous thoughts that surrounded him, would take his own life using the weapon of words that you planted there.

I sit here, waiting. Waiting for someone to wake up from this life of lies and sow a seed of hope into every eye. That the seed would grow, and bear fruit so sweet that the taste on your tongue dripped from your mouth and filled the room with a presence so powerful that you saw nothing but greatness. But there is not a heart that roars a cry of truth.

And so, I sit here, and wait.

I sit because no one would believe what he proclaims. His tears and pain are swept under the rug of frustration because no one can see past his flaws, his mistakes, his thrift store clothes, his Wal-Mart shoes, his bad breath, his uncombed hair, his awkwardness, his anger, his size, his shape- to even think for the slightest moment there is truth in what he speaks.

So now I speak, on behalf of those broken spirits that wander aimlessly through these halls, seeking a glimpse of happiness that promises a better future. To the parents, who watched their baby, take their own life in hopes of gaining a bitter relief. You tried to be a better person, but you failed because you let the tongue in your mouth form words that took lives. But now, will you think twice?

I sit here, and wait- wait for a change. A change that will reap an attitude of optimism and joy. A change that will encourage the strugglers to keep fighting. I sit and wait and sit and wait and sit and wait because I am tired of hearing the cries. I am tired of hearing him yell. I am tired of seeing the pain. I am TIRED of sitting.


So now, I stand.


This poem is about: 
My family


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