Brother-
You were perfect.
I was ugly.
Your future was free.
Mine was wrought in the iron
of my skin.
I never blamed you,
and I never will.
Sometimes I hate you.
I realize you know this.
----
Our views are different:
Mine is high.
Yours is low.
When you open your eyes,
you see hate.
Corruption.
Misery.
Pain.
I see my brother,
struggling to find something
to believe in.
Struggling for me.
----
And when you sleep,
you have nightmares.
You dream of mangled bodies,
and memories that can
never be taken back.
Memories that can
never be redeemed.
----
I cannot sleep.
But I can dream.
----
The hands of a clock
refused to stop. Even when
we begged time to end.
Time replied,
"You are not gods."
And proceeded
to strip us of everything
that used to be
inalienable.
----
I dream of that day
in the moments we have
when I know you are wondering if what you did
and what you are doing
is right.
----
Let me tell you this, Brother:
You are right.
You have always been right.
Don't pause
and don't look back.
----
What we have done is unforgivable.
Time was correct
in reprimanding us.
----
What we have done is unforgivable-
but, Brother.
----
It was right.
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D'aww.
I wrote the first verse of this about a year ago. I just now finished it. I have posted poetry here but I want to experiment with different types. Expect haikus soon, and possibly limericks.
What do you think? Does it convey enough younger-brother-to-older-brother cuteness?
Thanks for reading.