A poem I wrote tonight.
For Rob Maner
2/12/81-7/30/10
Shadows
It is only in the shadows of winter
that I find my pen again…
I’ll never get the chance to save your life
as you might once have saved mine,
fallen into the dust of memory.
My life shining too brightly, too blinded
to see you waving from the shadows,
I threw that chance away.
I would take a bullet for you,
but I could not take the crushing doubts,
the broken places deep within your soul.
I could not penetrate the dark place
where your nightmare futures were born.
I didn’t try.
I didn’t try.
I have failed you, my brother; this is shame
that I will carry all my days. You’re gone
and all I have is the empty words
I scribe with a shadow-fueled pen,
the empty rage at the world,
my hollow sorrow, my tarnished soul.
You’ve left this world behind
with intention and the hope
that the shadows will envelope you;
will keep you hidden. You leave only questions
without answers, grief without resolution;
a harmony broken, an arrhythmic melody.
I’ll never know what might have been,
the sins of omission punish me with
all that might have been, and the shadows
can never bring forgiveness. I’m left behind;
I’ve forfeited my right to sacrifice.
Tomorrow, I’ll find the strength to speak
of your memory, of the empty place
where you once stood, my brother.
Tonight, all I can do is gaze at the shadows;
what did you see in the darkness?
What led you away from the light?
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