Flower

How would my brain look

coming out through the side of my head?

Would it be beautiful?

A simple, but defined red?

Can a man witness

the death of his soul?

Or do I disappear the moment

I make my body un-whole?

Am I a nervous electron

floating unbound?

Forever part of this planet,

so beautiful, so round?

Or does the cold of this life

bring fire to my heart?

Do I start living again

the moment my body and life part?

And could this breath

be nearly my last?

Is the debt of my injustice

the anchoring weight of my past?

I do not wish death

upon you or upon me.

I merely wish for the vengeance

of the wind and the sea.

For greed has made

the world stiff and off-kilt.

A flower damaged by footprints,

now flaccid and wilt.

We must all die

and be forgotten someday.

The only gift we give

is forgiveness or pain.