Words Of Sorrow and Redemption

Messages From the Heart:

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A Hollow Life Abandoned

Alone in your prison bunker you cried,
And made sure that nobody saw you.
But tears aren't a weakness---they come from inside.
They fell in great torrents from your eyes of blue.

Why was it so hard for you to come forth,
And admit that your spirit had broken?
My home's a straight distance from yours to the north,
Had I known of your pain, then to you I'd have spoken.

We all live our lives doing all that we can.
Unless a depression snuffs out our resolve.
You grew from a sad little boy to a man,
It seems that no measure of joy had evolved.

When I wrote to you, I didn't mince any words.
I got the impression that you turned away.
But, hey, I too was one of the nerds,
And with me no cool children would ever play.

This message is moot, for you no longer live.
No more chances for happiness can come to you.
You filtered your gentle, warm heart through a sieve,
And all that life offered was a cold, empty view.

Dear Dad

Dad, this is Timmy---may I talk for awhile?
Although I am dead, I feel quite close to you.
Don't cry anymore 'cause I walked that last mile.
Please forgive me for tearing your good life in two.

Dad, you know how I told you I was on a mission?
} I was chosen to show them that Waco was wrong.
I built a bomb, set it off, then there was fission.
I knew that I'd hear my executioner's song.

But Dad, I still love you and wish you could heal.
I'm in heaven with Gramps and he's helping me see
That I hurt many people---he's taught me to feel.

Please look out for Mom, for she's troubled and ill.
I know it's my fault that her mind's come undone.
You love her in spite of it all and you will
Wipe the tears from her eyes and will show her the sun.

Well, Dad, I guess I should let you go on.
Do you feel any better from hearing me talk?
Does it prove to you that, even though I am gone,
I am with you in spirit, wherever you walk?

A Broken Man Speaks To His Late Son

Son, this is Dad---this is difficult for me.
You've thrown so very many vital lives away.
You're included in that number and I'll forever be,
Missing you more with every passing day.

I don't know why you did it and I'll never understand,
Why you found life so unbearable and harboured so much hate.
I feel as though I'd built my life on dangerous quicksand.
However did I get us all in such a tragic state?

I still love you and will struggle with the desperate urge to cry.
You saw shedding tears as weak and that you weren't really a man.
But I want so much to self-destruct since we both said good-bye.
The world had nothing for you---from its pain and strife you ran.

I wish that I had seen your pain before your act of rage.
I must move on from this, but Tim, I don't know how.
Can I fight off bouts of black despair and reach a ripe old age?
Perhaps, with time I can, but my heart is breaking now.

Timmy, I can't talk no more to you---the pain is too extreme.
I've taken down our flag but your things I want to keep.
Sometimes I feel you with me but then find it's just a dream.
It's all that I possess now: Your sweet memories in sleep.

Thine Own Executioner

Tim, I must admit I was angry you died.
I hated those people who cheered and felt good.
I hated you too, in a way, for you lied.
You said you'd survive if the court said you could.

But you gave up the fight---you surrendered yourself,
And waived your last chance to regroup and pospone.
Why did your survival get put on a shelf?
You were killed and cremated---you left me alone.

Someday I may come to accept your cruel fate.
Perhaps I will see you when my life is through.
I'll tell you, though, that I'll continue to state,
That all life is sacred----you know this is true.

Like you, I once wanted permanent sleep.
I made quite a nasty attempt on my life.
But my promise to leave this world I couldn't keep,
My near brush with death cut my mom like a knife.

In a way, you were selfish yourself, when you quit.
But I'm able to understand how much you hurt.
Death was a release--you were sick of life's shit
And, per Cobain's sad legacy, you acted like Kurt.

Culpability

I expect no forgiveness---please cut me no slack.
Deserving of death, I relinquished my soul. What I took from so many I'll never give back.
In your hearts I have blown a gigantic, black hole.

But the government needed a stiff wake-up call.
Showing them all that was wrong was my goal.
I was desperate for those bastards to take a fall.

When still full of life, those sad victims I taunted.
Some really did capitalize on their grief.
Even though I was ready to die, they all wanted
More suffering---they wished me crushed like a leaf.

It seems I'd no enemy as bad as my own.
In my last days I painted myself as a ghoul.
But what did it matter? I was always alone.
I'd very few friends, both at camp or at school.

In truth, part of me wanted to keep living on.
I hadn't a death wish as some did attest,
But before I could say anything, I was gone.
So here I am---deep in an eternal rest.

Maternal Instincts

Timmy, this is your mom and I must speak to you.
Even though you told everyone I was a whore.
I forgive you for that, for I loved you, it's true.
I don't have my sweet little boy anymore.

Yes, I know you left childhood a long time ago.
Before I could blink you were grown and at war,
I wish I had told you, "Please Timmy, don't go."
When you came back my dear little boy was no more.

I know now that killing those men really hurt you.
But you wouldn't come tell us that you were in pain.
Perhaps if you had then we'd know what to do.
We could see that you healed and felt sunshine again.

Son, this is so difficult for me to say.
For a parent to outlive a child is hell.
Did all of this happen so I'd have to pay
For splitting the family you loved so well?

I'm awash in self-pity, as I always was.
You practically brought up youself and I'm sad.
Don't think that I'm telling you all this because,
I want the pain in my heart not to fester so bad.

I want to say just one more thing to you, son.
When you think of me, please don't react with hot rage.
I'm not a well woman and can't take the pain.
Now that you're gone, I will turn a new page,
So that I can go forth and enjoy life again.

Sibling Sorrow

Tim, this is Jennifer---now it's my turn,
To give you a message of love and regret.
Deep inside of me, there will be this awful burn,
For I've not come close to forgetting you yet.

Forgive me for turning on you in your trial.
I've had nighmares for years borne of betraying you.
Just when I think I can relax for awhile,
My wounds and my guilt rip asunder anew.

I remember those sweet memories of our youth.
How you loved to protect me and keep me from harm.
Do you have recollections of drinking Vermouth,
When our family stayed that great year on a farm?

Why am I babbling like this----you're no more
And a last hug from you I'd be rudely denied. I guess I deserved to be cut to the core.
But, Tim, when they murdered you part of me died.

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