Street Sects

Featherweight Hate

Street Sects


Blamed your defeat
On your so called disease
I was certain you’d die
Staring drunkenly into my eyes

And your worth was obscured
No one valued your word
Your last ride in my car
Bought you a dime behind bars

Leaving a wife and child
To fend for themselves
Carrying secrets you knew
They’d be too scared to tell

Blamed your arrest
On your poor taste in friends
But it wasn’t their fault
You let desperation break your heart

And I know it was wrong
To never visit or call
But as our mother would say
I had my own debts to pay

On the eve of your release I began trembling
As thoughts raced through my mind
I’d heard talk of how you’d changed inside

So I showered and then loaded my shotgun
And sat facing the door
To welcome my brother back home