You are a cloud, a dream
we could never catch, walking
into your last chapter.
The crowd of stares halt
under the raging sun to see
if you'd jump from the
sixteenth floor, anxious
maybe, I hear a 911 call
in the background by a woman
old enough to be your grandmother
so maybe she does care.
But you are the mistake,
the casualty of
being unwanted and strings of abuse
and
the drop down is your redemption,
look, a ten year old drops
to her knees and prays
to her god who you
don't believe in
but I see regret swimming
in your eyes
as you tumble down
endlessly,
the end is like the last page of a book
that leaves you raw
and life incomprehensible.
but if that's the way you wanted it
then I don't have anything
to say.