two friends talk
two friends talk
by Brandon S. Roy
Your mother was very young and your father smelled of fine cigars.
We all know that you killed them.
Are you trying to create doubt?
My parents always told me I should not kill.
You deposit to the bank, not the grave.
I’d rather continue to hallucinate than run my fingers through metal vines.
I wish you would have told me you were going to kill your parents.
Are you trying to make me look bad?
If you hold these bullets for me, I’ll split the money with you.
puzzles of life are always a mistry and how you tell it in a story.i love the way you have written this tale between friends or not even friends for that matter, when loyalty is pushed beyound it’s limits or when one’s opinion of doing the right thing becomes a dull,dark almost frighterning thought.