we could have been friends
back in the day
before you sour’d on the world
and thought your beauty
was sinful
and damned
when your hair was waist-length
black as road tar
catching the suns rays in multifaceted

I wish we’d known each other
before you decided
you hated the country you were born and raised in
I’d liked to have
been your first lover
somewhere ankle-deep in soft green clover
when you looked at the world
with not so jaundiced eyes
with your rimless glasses
part of your rebellious uniform
the beginning of your severe asceticism
and entrenched anger

I would have loved to have held your hand
with a gentle squeeze from time to time
letting you know
I was there
with you
and would always have your back
I can see deep within you
the fresh-faced, slightly freckled
young lady in your early teens
before you found
hate as your companion
and shut the door on the past forever
as you fought for the common man
spilling blood
as though that makes it alright

you spout your venom
with hysterical speeches
on college campus after college campus
drunk with the sound of your own voice
you quote from Mao’s Red Book
your Bible
as though it makes a difference
I watch as you lie beside me
sleep has returned to you your innocence
your youth
your passion for life
not destruction
and upheaval
I’ll be gone when you awake
to never forget you
and what this night brought me
but I cannot stay
I am your enemy.

©December 9, 2010 / Jerry Pat Bolton