Death of Innocense
Are humans inherently good or evil? Is it coded in our genetics?
Or is there some kind of an on/off switch that we hold in our possession
Is there some form of deity by whom we’re chosen all our settings
Or is it the trauma we endure that molds all our perceptions?
Little Susie used to escape in the books, pressed her heart between the pages
Opted out of the gloom real world in favor for a world of amazement
So I don’t know what the surprise was, why the community collectively gasped
When one day she left into her fantasy world, and never came back...
I hope she’s dwelling in a fairy tale
Stuck in suspension with the other creatures on eternity’s carousel
Hopefully she’s taking care of herself
As she watches the world burn from the top of the Ferris wheel
I hope this finds her well
The story she could never write so it wrote itself
Her vessel is now a hallow shell..
Nothing but decaying flesh to see and eternal rot to smell
Pops five xannies a day, she’s craving more and more medicine
Combat boots strapped symbolize the fact she’s in a war she’ll never win
Buried in the darkness, trying to pick up the broken bits of her sanity
Hard to feel your way through the blackness, eclipsed in the long shadow of tragedy
Daddy was a ritualistic boozer, habitual absuser
After a couple sips of brew his fists were sent to come and bruise her
Mama interfered and took the brunt of the hits and contusions
Split lip, Mom hits the floor, Daddy doesn’t heed little Susan
“STOP DADDY PLEASE” she yelled as the tears welled in her eyes
“STOP DADDY PLEEEEEAASE!” But he wouldn’t say die
He’s gunning for her head there’s not a strike he would hold
As Mommy’s beat into a bloody, unrecognizable pulp
Susie panics, then remembers the gun Daddy kept in his nightstand
She cocks it like Daddy taught her, in case she ever encountered a bad man
She walks up to him, points the barrel point blank at his ballcap
“I’m sorry Daddy” she whimpers, as she coaxes the trigger back
His body slumps and it falls, the furniture behind him painted with blood and gore
She stares down at Mommy clad with blood and marred, laid on the hardwood floor
Sobbing she grabs the phone and dials 911, comforting her mangled body
Later that night, she’d succumb to her wounds while Susie slept in the hospital lobby
Now she’s 15 hoping from one foster home to the next, she lost everything that day
Both her parents but most of all, that same bullet ricocheted
And caught that little bystander girl, her pretty dress was seeped with blood
She lost part of herself that day, tried to hide but no book was ever deep enough
Death of innocence