Free Base Fable

My baby brother had the face of an angel; One proud young lion all supple grace and golden hair Shamelessly evocative against the backdrop of life. My baby brother...untutored gigelo from birth. His eyes: sapphire blue and beautiful And he could shame a whore back into innocence If he chose that part. One lazy smile like a laser beam through the heart.. One inexpensive smile to melt raw anger to a shrug, Or a sigh...in return for our rage, However well and truly earned. Enticed us all to willing hugs for any sin, And so, as always, forgiveness came Because there were so many hate filled things uncounted. He seemed intent on the tally of invisible wounds... Useless transgressions turned expensive through the years. They festered behind those beautiful eyes And a cracked glass pipe; Using that deadly grin to blind those who loved him still... But still....we saw the danger, denied a name in deference To us all - who could not - would not act. And he wasted all that love he so loudly demanded; Shrill and greedy, emotional vampire...my baby brother. Pouring love into him like molten gold Hot and bright and blinding Into an empty vessel that never seemed to fill. My pure bred lion turned alley cat; Turned indolent, arrogant, dangerous and dirty. This magnificent human turned crazy, Investing his money - and ours - into the art of throwing his life away With vengeance and malice aforethought. My baby brother: Proud owner of his own self destruct button And a .38 revolver, Well hidden, until recently... Until junkie fantasies gobbled up the truth And the veneer of his sanity. Oh Mark, where have you gone..? Sweetheart, where are you now...? What White Mountain have you climbed this time Dealing yourself madness and death in a locked room... And blaming everybody but yourself Witih a torch made of nightmares and hate... Hot enough to crack the glass. Crying for a Father - long dead - to come and "save" you.. Come and get you.... Crying for a man you would not love in life. Punish him still, lost and ugly child. Hideous child grown and almost lost forever... Perhaps he remains just one more demon In some toxic level memory Shoving hard for elbow room Among all the other monsters shrieking in your head. Oh Mark, where are you now..? Baby brothers don't grow on trees, you know. What will we do if you are really lost And long gone beyond the medicines of love and speech.. And human tears...all wasted. My baby brother, no baby any more; Psychotic fallen angel Who never grew to manhood by any man's side... Who will not climb out of the stygean darkness by himself, Even though we all share your guilt if not the crimes. My baby brother: Obscene imitation of some one especially loved; Living proof of a bad attitude gone beserk. Your life in the real world begins When you lose your name at the tip of your tongue; The moment we finally call you junkie loser... Junkie liar...junkie weapon...out loud, And you agree. One split second after you know it is true... The day - that moment - when you reach out and say,..."Help me... Oh my beautiful Mark, Where are you now...