I stay awake

I wait cautiously in the dark, for those who come to fight.

To serve without question the duties of my job.

To suppress the dictators and the rioters of the mob.

I have never ending questions and voices in my head.

I wonder the paradox of a question, how I’ll be remembered when I’m dead?

To concrete my fear and dry my tears in a wasteland of places.

To give meaning and life to the faces of different races.

 

Only in my absence will they think to remember.

Only the shadow of a man who left in late November.

Will it be of the boy whose pitch won the game?

Will it be of the boy whose thoughts were of fortune and fame?

Will it be of the boy who could quiet the loudest of screams?

Will it be of the man who followed a father's dream?

Only in my memories was I a man who could see tomorrow.

Only if now I didn't see so much sorrow.