What Screams?

6/5/2012

It comes to mind and will not line

with anything other than itself.

Exorcisms are one of a kind

so expectations of difference are futile.

It's DARK; My brother is WHERE?

I can barely see a cross.

Laid out upon a table

confusion becomes this label.

So much like:  Yet!  Worlds Apart!

Come hither to gain such sight.

For one was kind

the other FRIGHT.

A dead boy gave no light.

Just the same, his skin I gained

my brother passed out and I might.

But, stood I did and swear,  I promised,

to tell my brother,

 "They lied, he was dead, you killed no one."

'til Forty Years, I held my sear

for scarce I was to find.

)For very few things from here

ever kept me 'round.(

I held true, 

to brother too.

Told him at age Forty-Two!!

Relief, belief, a simple nod

told me of his grateful lead.

Keeping simple, tragic things,

he said, "They worked it out."

I said, "O.K."

then I made,

an artful and purposeful mistake.

 .

I handed him, what I wrote,

and had mailed to "1200" friends.

Our Mother paled: I'm sure I nailed.

She cried, "Take her children. Right?"

My brother cried

and ran outside and sobbed;

"I didn't know you remembered"

No tears were shed from my eyes

I felt no pang of death as I expected.

I never saw what hurt I'd feel,

the sight of my big brother running from the room we were in

It ended only to begin in greater degree,

the consequence for carrying such a message for so long:

I didn't know 

The pain ran into me and opened veins,

not of blood but of agony.