Dreams Die First
Be Careful What You Do,
When they first told me
I was sick,
I simply thought
they were referring
to a cold.
//
The bell tolls in the
blitz of the rain.
Many will assume
a wedding,
church,
a ceremony.
But no,
they are wrong.
Indeed, it is the last
of ceremonies
for one who
has lived.
It is their funeral.
Ink, I do ask you to
come out of the rain.
I don't look over.
Pretend the wails of
the heavy rain
are shutting out
my ability to hear.
I know you can hear me,
Ink. Don't make me come
out there.
I smile. Walk my way back
inside.
Drenched,
everywhere.
I don't complain
over the shivers it causes.
Watch little puddles form
around my pale,
bare feet,
from the droplets of water
falling from hair.
Why were you out there?
We have guests coming.
"I'm aware."
He hands me a towel
in his decrepit fingers.
I place it on my head
cause motion
so it may dry.
//
Sorry to keep
you all waiting.
He should be here
soon.
My back pressed
against the refurbished
wall. Hiding beyond the
corner.
Trying to catch
a single word of
displeasure,
about me,
run down their chins.
He seems so irresponsible.
Showing up late
to his own meeting!
He's just a kid,
barely seventeen,
why should I have to take orders
from him?
Apparently he's "smart".
And he has managed
to solve every case
he's come in contact with.
But he barely gets out
in public.
He's one of those creepy
shut-in's. I'm only here
to see the guy,
I here he rarely shows
his face! I'm leaving
as soon as this
is over.
What makes him
qualified to lead
this operation? Can't
we get a real detective?
Yeah,
this is so over-rated.
We don't need a snobby,
teenage brat to tell us
what to do.
Their voices echo,
bouncing of the walls
repeating in my ear.
Ink?
My head turns to
the shadows.
Your guests are waiting.
"Get rid of them."
What?
"Tell them they're free
to go.
No need to work
alongside those who hate me
with a burning passion."
As you say.
Aversion arises,
gas above my head,
taunting me
to breathe.
He made us
come all the way out here
just to send us away?
What the Hell
is his problem?
Yeah! What's
with this kid?
He's dissatisfied
with this selection.
Dissatisfied? Good word.
"Actually," I step out of
my sanctuary in the shadows.
All eyes, all attention, turn to
me.
"I had no complication
working side by side
with all of you.
Actually,
I was looking forward
to doing so.
Although,
that doesn't seem
to be the case
for you four.
I apologize I couldn't be
of service to you."
Their anger,
along with surprise,
wallows away in the gust
they leave in.
Nothing new.
I do sincerely
apologize. Maybe
the next selection
will bring more luck.
"Let's hope."
He knows I'm being
sarcastic.
A smile shows
I'm right.
In the deep pit
of my mind
I hope there will never
be the select few
in which I trust.
I hope I'll never
have to step down
to work beside
anyone.
I was sick,
I simply thought
they were referring
to a cold.
//
The bell tolls in the
blitz of the rain.
Many will assume
a wedding,
church,
a ceremony.
But no,
they are wrong.
Indeed, it is the last
of ceremonies
for one who
has lived.
It is their funeral.
Ink, I do ask you to
come out of the rain.
I don't look over.
Pretend the wails of
the heavy rain
are shutting out
my ability to hear.
I know you can hear me,
Ink. Don't make me come
out there.
I smile. Walk my way back
inside.
Drenched,
everywhere.
I don't complain
over the shivers it causes.
Watch little puddles form
around my pale,
bare feet,
from the droplets of water
falling from hair.
Why were you out there?
We have guests coming.
"I'm aware."
He hands me a towel
in his decrepit fingers.
I place it on my head
cause motion
so it may dry.
//
Sorry to keep
you all waiting.
He should be here
soon.
My back pressed
against the refurbished
wall. Hiding beyond the
corner.
Trying to catch
a single word of
displeasure,
about me,
run down their chins.
He seems so irresponsible.
Showing up late
to his own meeting!
He's just a kid,
barely seventeen,
why should I have to take orders
from him?
Apparently he's "smart".
And he has managed
to solve every case
he's come in contact with.
But he barely gets out
in public.
He's one of those creepy
shut-in's. I'm only here
to see the guy,
I here he rarely shows
his face! I'm leaving
as soon as this
is over.
What makes him
qualified to lead
this operation? Can't
we get a real detective?
Yeah,
this is so over-rated.
We don't need a snobby,
teenage brat to tell us
what to do.
Their voices echo,
bouncing of the walls
repeating in my ear.
Ink?
My head turns to
the shadows.
Your guests are waiting.
"Get rid of them."
What?
"Tell them they're free
to go.
No need to work
alongside those who hate me
with a burning passion."
As you say.
Aversion arises,
gas above my head,
taunting me
to breathe.
He made us
come all the way out here
just to send us away?
What the Hell
is his problem?
Yeah! What's
with this kid?
He's dissatisfied
with this selection.
Dissatisfied? Good word.
"Actually," I step out of
my sanctuary in the shadows.
All eyes, all attention, turn to
me.
"I had no complication
working side by side
with all of you.
Actually,
I was looking forward
to doing so.
Although,
that doesn't seem
to be the case
for you four.
I apologize I couldn't be
of service to you."
Their anger,
along with surprise,
wallows away in the gust
they leave in.
Nothing new.
I do sincerely
apologize. Maybe
the next selection
will bring more luck.
"Let's hope."
He knows I'm being
sarcastic.
A smile shows
I'm right.
In the deep pit
of my mind
I hope there will never
be the select few
in which I trust.
I hope I'll never
have to step down
to work beside
anyone.