Forgiver Forgetter
January, 1962
He awoke in a cold sweat
to those old sounds of heartbreak.
his brother at his side screaming
"this isn't your fight".
but that rush took over his head
and he came to his mother's side.
and he found himself alone with that devil rambling.
"oh, well the money's all gone
and she can't pay the rent with that needle in her arm."
he clenched his fists.
"what did she ever do to you,
but raise us by herself
when you were too drunk to come through?"
he took a swing.
"that's some nerve you got kid."
"yeah well they'll put that on your tombstone
as the last thing that you said.
I never wanted to kill a man,
like I want to kill you, man."
the years of pain boiled over,
trading blows across the counter.
and when that devil was down
he grabbed for his empty old friend jack.
he caught his eye as he took his last breath
and that vice went to his head again and again
and again and again and again and again
"dear god what have you done?" cried out his mother.
"that devil drunk was no father.
another name on a list
for unpaid bookies and gambling debts."
that spiteful stare of his brother.
"I ain't no forgiver forgetter.
I'll make you pay for this, when you least expect it."
he washed the blood from his hands,
kissed his mother and stepped into cold night air.
Perdonador Olvidador
Enero, 1962
Despertó empapado en sudor frío
con esos viejos sonidos de desamor.
su hermano a su lado gritando
'esto no es tu pelea'.
pero esa prisa se apoderó de su cabeza
y se acercó al lado de su madre.
y se encontró solo con ese diablo divagando.
'oh, bueno, todo el dinero se ha ido
y ella no puede pagar el alquiler con esa aguja en su brazo.'
apretó los puños.
'¿qué te hizo ella alguna vez a ti,
sino criarnos sola
cuando tú estabas demasiado borracho para cumplir?'
lanzó un golpe.
'tienes mucho descaro, chico.'
'sí, bueno, lo pondrán en tu lápida
como la última cosa que dijiste.
nunca quise matar a un hombre,
como quiero matarte a ti, hombre.'
los años de dolor se desbordaron,
intercambiando golpes a través del mostrador.
y cuando ese diablo estaba abatido
agarró a su viejo amigo jack vacío.
le atrapó la mirada mientras exhalaba su último aliento
y esa tentación volvió a su cabeza una y otra vez
una y otra vez y otra vez y otra vez y otra vez
'querido dios, ¿qué has hecho?' gritó su madre.
'ese diablo ebrio no era un padre.
otro nombre en una lista
por deudas impagas con corredores de apuestas y juegos de azar.'
aquella mirada rencorosa de su hermano.
'no soy un perdonador olvidador.
te haré pagar por esto, cuando menos lo esperes.'
lavó la sangre de sus manos,
besó a su madre y salió al frío aire nocturno.