Tuesday, March 7, 2017

What If...

It was one of those beautiful mornings,
When he last spoke, 
'Mother, I feel lonely', he had said,
My nature took over, 
'Your life, your rules', I finished the thread.

It was one of those beautiful mornings,
When the knock came to my doors,
A letter he held, between his fingers,
'Ma'am, your son, he killed himself'
The world crashed, 'What if', the thought lingers.

It was one of those lovely evenings,
I heard the ring of the phone,
The dipping sun, beauty of the twilight,
I ignored the constant ring, annoyed I cursed,
The twilight grew into a cold night.

It was one of those lovely evenings,
When my father opened the letter,
'I tried to talk, but there was no one home',
'I am lost', my father couldn't read no more,
The world crashed, 'What if',  I had just answered the phone.

It was one of those silent nights,
The ring broke my sleep, and I answered,
'Can I talk to my sister', he pled,
'She is asleep', I ignored with a retort,
The night was a bliss, into my dreams I fled.

It was one of those silent nights,
When her mother wrote,
'Your brother is dead', she would write,
My life stood still, and guilt played her tune,
'What if' I had woken her up, that night.


- Tim
Inspired by a post in 9gag

3 comments:

Ravenclaw said...

Missed chances and guilt are like festering sores. You have brought out the analogy beautifully. It's a really powerful piece.

Justin Jose said...

Thanks

Unknown said...

I am not impressed