2010 - you were scum

2010

you are come and done

but what for?

no four number have hurt me so much.

and why?

was it the people or was it me?

did you have to tell me those secrets?

those dark family secrets?

why was it great-grandpa died of menengitis

before prohibition,

why did he walk with two canes -

was it rheumatism or was it more?

now grandpa walks with a shuffle.

and that secret is opening

winding through my genes

maybe in my chromosomes.

i want to walk. what would i do

if i couldn't?

 

how can one man have twice

been afflicted by cancer in one summer

when his son has disowned him?

how deep is that bottle

how many drinks can he dive into?

how can we watch as his body and mind

rebel.

he had to watch a woman die this summer

as he feared dying himself.

now he can't sit beside his father.

grandpa has a cold

uncle has chemo and radiation.

how is it to not hold your father,

who may be dying -

for the real fear of the microscopic?

oshawa delanda est,

burn and be salted.

old wounds just won't close,

and those moments haunt.

days where faces are gaunt

and bed is the only place to be.

i was told youth wasn't for pain,

maybe i am vain?

am i I?

or am I something smaller?

do i deserve to be the capital

when i speak of myself?

am i dimunitive and low-case?

2010,

how can four numbers do this?

all at once and no one cares

because 2010 did this to everyone.

let rivers follow their course,

don't cry or show remorse.

burn something down

just to feel human warmth.

lay alone in your bed,

eyes on broken ceiling tile,

dream of what to defile.

smash that bottle and hear it break

is it what you wanted to make?

just watch as the future is stolen -

world and body.

twenty three is hell

and 2010 was nothing but scum.