Definition

What are you? Come on, spit it out. Don't look at her, she can't tell you. It's a simple question, come on, just tell the truth.

DEFINITION

 

So, what will you do

When

The drunken Irishman ambles down the street

Whisky rolling

Tears down his cheek:

Scuffed like the shoes he wears, shoes worn

From broken bottles,

Late night tiffs,

Kicking the wall one too many times...

A man who fears the Bums themselves

Will spit upon the

Cuff

Of his trousers in their own

Mal-earnt disgust.

 

What will you do, what will you do

When he knocks on the door

Looks at you

Clings to your hand, breaks his voice

To hoarse, loud sobs, pleads

"My son, my son, I have been bad

I know, you know this,

But spare! me the traitor's kiss

You are my blood, still, my blood

Son, that means something, still?"

When his eye captures you

And he begs

For

His

Absolution?

 

Or

 

When the pretty girl, long-loved

Her white eyes with pupils wide

Crumbles down, at your side,

Crumbles but grips your hand

Wants you

To

Understand

What is going on, what it all means

Thought she has the answer, or the question

It doesn't really matter which

What will you do, what will you do

When she drags you to the ditch

Tells you, quiet, plain

"I'm no longer sane

There's something wrong, Mike

There's something wrong...

It's all getting too hard, too long...

I don't know if I want to stay...

I thought I knew; I was wrong."

 

What will you do?

What will you say?

Brush the hair from her face

Take his hand in yours?

Look them in the gaze and say

"I can't take any more"?

Slam it in his face

Or open up the door

Or leave without a trace

Or fly

Or fall

Or

Any number of answers, none right, none wrong

But this is Definition, lad

This is what you are.

Author's Note

Sorry if this is shit, it was a bit quickly written, just trying to see if this is a good idea