Mum and Dad

My mum and dad are broken.
I can not fix them.
My failures, the world's failures,
have broken the dream of
progress, perfection, family and me.

Sorry does not help.
Money might.
A hug is not enough, and rarely
can I be sincere enough
with words that will please them.

The coupe de grace is honesty,
But I can not administer it.
Instead I work to try and rebuild
a part of their fallen dream.
But there is little time.

Work for a dream,
but do not frame it.
Let it move.
Be honest to yourself.
Do not let your dream fix
what others must do.
Your dreams are for you,
not for others to participate in,
else they become puppets.
Life includes others
and your life so requires them,
but not dreams.

Don't confuse dreams
with life.
Life is.
Dreams may be.
A life full of pain is still life.
Dreams are elusive.
Aspirations are greedy,
debilitating in failure.
Live, do not retire from life.
Life is failure and pain,
and we rarely fix each other.

 

Suicide

Suicide is a solution;
my sister used it.
I've thought it also
but my foundations haven't broken yet.
But they might. Anyone's might.

People need my work. Still.
I don't think they need my poetry or my love.
They might need my humour a little.
We need the things people can give,
but avoid what people are
and what they need to live.

I could have helped my sister,
but I had other things to do.
We all have other things to do.
I could help my dad;
I could help my mum.
But I have other things to do.

Will they die before I finish my work?
Should I take a break to help them?
How much help will they need?
Will they use my last threads
of energy and power?
Do they deserve it?
They do not help me in my pain.
They only make it worse.
They'd be better off in a hearse.

Writing it down like that
you can see my thoughts are wrong
misguided, selfish, greedy
for my own survival.
Are we all the same?
Are you as selfish as me?
If I turn now, will I break,
will I need psychiatry?

Do they know how fragile
my existence is now?
Are we all the same
when pushed hard enough? No.

But something is pushing me to leave them to it.
I can see why they may have to suffer for the work of their child.
Parents have always had to, else stifle the growth
of the next generation.
Not willingly, but still they have to.
My duty is to the next generation.

Sorry. Too easy to continue the work
if I keep my distance from you.
But I do not wish you to be in the hearse.
Just let me do my work, with love,
and I will love you more if I can.