A Father’s Promise


 

You will never know the pain of being unwanted. The fear of arriving in a foreign world alone and being told that it is now your new home. Not everyone is as lucky as your father was, but luck will never have anything to do with your safety in this world while I am around. Guardian angel take a rest, while I am breathing my daughters will always be watched over.

J.C.C.

The Killing Field


The children run and play amongst the broken bones.
Roses grow and butterflies fly above our fallen foes.

We cannot escape as much as we turn from the past.
Our feet shuffle and toes squish amongst the fallen ash.

Tears of the dead have watered those many oaks.
They pull in each drop as the rag does soak.

And with each sun more souls are added still.
Into the killing field until the ground is fully filled.

-OM

The Mirror


I stare at him.

“You look tired,” I say.

He glances back with scorn. The Korean death stare penetrates the glass.

“Tired?” he scoffs, “Weak.”

I glare back and mumble something incoherent.

“What was that?” he snaps.

“Nothing…,” I mumble as I pick up my pen. It is weighed down by obligation now. Sleep seems a memory as the importance of responsibility takes over.

“You don’t even do anything! All you do is criticize and make me mad!” I shout.

“…of course, someone has to motivate you,” he says back.

-OM

Melting Lives


A single snowflake lays in a field. Alone he waits for death and somehow contemplates the irony of it all. Who the hell ever heard of a single snow flake falling?

He thanks his maker still that he fell facing up. It would have been a shame to slowly melt away his life facing down towards the ground, possibly watching his life passing forth life to another. Lucky blade of grass. Who the hell made you so genetically superior that you reap the benefit of my death?

But instead of wasting his single tear on despair. He swallows emotion for the moment, the way a frozen heart only can. He looks to the sky, to what he assumes is where his maker is. For had he not fallen from the sky? Whichever brightly shining bulb of light had conjured him, even for what is more and more feeling like only mere minutes, he still gives thanks. And as he feels his heart begin to melt he begins to find understanding in death and ultimately some peace.

-Opinionated Man