Picture 16

 

I listened to a conversation on the radio with a young man who stood by the side of his brother. His brother was a criminal, a professional who spent most of his youth in jails.
I listened to him explain his love for his brother, and what led him down a road of crime and violence.
And as I listened to him, I shook my head and thought, how far does ones love for family go?
So came this poem.
enjoy.
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Choices

When I finally realized,
that they,
were going to live their lives,
with violence.
That the door,
to a better life,
remained closed.
That the only life,
they understood,
was a life of crime.
I packed my bag
and said goodbye.
It didn’t matter,
that I loved them.
It didn’t matter,
they were all I had.
It didn’t matter,
that I was one of them,
they were my life.
I ran away,
as far,
as I could go.
I turned around
and took the
Grey Hound
out of town,
rather than live my life,
alone in jail.

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