Syllables

Time waste.
Cold faced.
Shots fired.
Not replaced.

Back and forth,
Tennis court,
Stabbing knives.
From both sides.

Kicking them out.
Memories, doubts.
War declared.
Hands are red.

Sides are taken.
Friendships shaken.
Killed in due course,
Only remorse.

Limits pushed.
Feelings shushed.
I surrender.
You murder.

I’ll question.
Propose solutions.
And you’ll make
That same mistake.

We can still
Go up that hill.
Shove our pride,
To the side.
Be happy
With our lives.

But you won’t.

So I stare
In despair,
At our pictures,
Another world.
Till my eyes blur.