Pissed Lullabies

by The Laundry Maid

You lay before me nicely decorated.

Despite that you were a weak and doddering sponge of a man.

One who was too undependable to demonstrate love and compassion.

I review your constant state.

As my heart exhumes the recitals of your frailty and your miscarriages.

Though a transient, your face is kindred.

I regret that I only knew you through stories of pissed lullabies,

desecration, and verbal vomit.

Somehow, I lost track of the letter you sent.

The small cursive print was unclear despite,

That inside rest a diamond concealed in a small velvet envelope.

Adolescent hands before a mirror clung to its fluid matter.

Yet, it symbolized squat, zilch…nothing.

My character twice descended.

Our paths now thwarted permanently.

And for that I am mournful.

This Purple Heart pinned neatly to your chest,

Is inconsistent with the abundance of pollution you helped create.

Your disdain nested itself among us…those left to grieve you…

The ones you ponied up and passed out.

As the flag is presented and folded.

I am brought back to the here and to the now.

Forever is not mine to conserve,

I cannot bleed over a stranger.

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