I don’t know what to do
Or how to progress
Do I make another poem or two?
I feel too small in these shoes
Like my maturity has regressed
I have tough choices to choose
These thoughts I can repress
But my children are your nephew and neices too
Questions flood memories that I’ve recessed
I have questions too
I must confess
Where did you go to?
What convinced you, profess
Why did you leave me, tell me true
Would you confess to her?
Your sister, whose heart is black and blue?
I wish I’d moved past the professors
I wish I had a clue to what you would do
I would have stayed in college, studied, become a pro-tester
Become a psychiatrist too, like I’d dreamed to do
I’d be your biggest protector/protester
I’d protest your attitude
I’d protest your benefactors
I’d protest your platitudes
Drunken and high, the facts wouldn’t hurt
Like they would if you were sober, even flat out rude
I would protect you, I’d protect her
I’d protect the truth you elude
I’d project the slueth to detect
Why did your world erode?
Why did you elect to erect a life a wreck
What led you down that road?
I’d suffer your slurred calls if only to check
That you aren’t alone on the road you rode
If only I’d been there when you wrecked
If only I’d been the brother you would hold
The brother of the highest sect
Instead of the brother grown angry and old
If only my choices, my chances had a second