Vision #26 - The Lives You Affect, Stop Contributing To Their Undoing
By Kenneth R. Cabrieto

           You never wanted to open up to anyone,
           Said your life wasn’t worth sharing.
           No one was ever allowed to care for you,
           Including yourself.
           I used to wonder what that was,
           Now I wish that I didn’t know.
           Everyone who used to know anything about you,
           Knew fun was your only priority in life.
           The past and the future,
           Mattered not to you.
           Now I know that responsibility mean nothing as well.
           One day I asked you.
           For the first time ever you shared with someone.
           I wish I didn’t ask.
           I wish you didn’t share.
           What you told me, scars my mind to this day.
           I wish that I didn’t know.
           Life is a gift.
           To everyone but you it seems.
           I don’t see how anyone could abort a life.
           I really don’t see how you could abort five or six lives.
           Last time I talked to you,
           The number has risen to eight.
           True, some people dislike kids,
           But you’re different,
           For you it was hate.
           You hated your own.
           I talked to half of the fathers,
           Who’s kids you had played a part in the murder of,
           They do not forgive you.
           And neither do I.
           I don’t know if we ever could.
           I don’t know if anyone ever will.
           Look in the mirror,
           And say that you don’t care.
           You told me that you didn’t.
           You said it to my face.
           I was so disgusted.
           Look in the mirror!
           Become disgusted at that sight of yourself,
           At what you’ve become.
           As you focus on your cold reflection,
           See if you can smile.
           Listen to the cries of what you’ve undone.
           Keep looking at yourself.
           See if you can say it still.
           Tell yourself,
           “I don’t care.”
           Whisper,
           “It was nothing.”
           And cry.
           Something they may do no longer.
           Except in your mind.
           I know it haunts you.
           I fear that more cries will.
           I fear for them,
           Not you.
           You disgust me.
          
           Life is a gift.