When the I Killed We
We,
the word that is no more.
Lying lifeless at my door.
The "I"s have rid it from our sight,
adding layers to our plight.
The individual;
who cannot live without a friend
will never find one in the end;
for friendship died some time ago,
when people stopped caring about each other.
We are the collective "I",
the scatter without a sense of direction
...and as we splatter,
our stains eat holes in what was,
what will be
...and all that in between.
...But who is holding the handle?
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