Birth of the Unfortunate
One hour of life.
That's all he had,
The only thing the world gave him,
The only thing he knew.
That boy,
innocent, beautiful and clueless
Unwelcomed by the world,
Bombarded with hatred and pain,
Almost as if he absorbed the world's resentment,
But why?…
Why must He do this?…
Why must he bear our mistakes-
Our sins?
One hour,
Each tick
Robbed the boy of his life,
I watched it pass
I saw it wither,
Shriveled.
Despite that fact
the boy smiled-
It wasn’t childlike,
But one that knew more than I,
I felt as if I were a kid.
Although sadness overcame me,
I too smiled,
I felt warm,
safe—
reassured-
Reassured that everything was okay.
His life,
His life, although it was depressing-
His life was beautiful,
It felt longer than just one hour,
It was more than just his time,
It felt as if his life was larger,
His life had meaning,
Despite his small sentence,
I was relieved,
In his death,
selfishly—
I felt peace.
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