I hesitated to post this next poem because for fear it sounded to "sentimentalish", but I think about my brother all of the time.

For my major I am forced to stretch out and learn how to do things I thought were beyond me. Mainly I am speaking of drawing. The drawing element in this field of study is extensive; however, my abilities are not. So, I think about William a lot, and I ask for guidance and direction. He was very talented and mostly self taught. Sometimes I can sense him when I am working and stuck or frustrated and sometimes when I have success. William, I miss you! I hope you are proud, your sis Pam.


My Brother

Did I tell you?
My brother William died
Did you read his obituary?
They had a picture of him in there too

A picture he took before alcohol claimed his body
His eyes were big and bright
His hair curly

The telephone rang with the news
Williams is on life support what shall we do?
I calmly speak, oh momma I’m sorry to hear
Give it forty-eight hours
Let’s wait and see
Let’s pray seek the Father
He’ll tell us what to do

Forty-eight hours pass
He passed away almost to the minute
Tears I can’t find- no not right away
But I can sense his presence coming into the room
I say, William I know you’re gone, for now, let’s all get some sleep

The next morning I rise still no tears
My heart is full of worry
Worry for my mom and dad

As I hurry to pack my clothes
In the suitcase I find the tears
Tears to help me grieve
They come with a wail
And then a holler

Yes, I cried that afternoon
William’s gone I said
I can’t believe it’s true
I tell him I’m mad at him
He left us here alone

He was so young
In the prime of his life
His talents—gifts form God
They all died too

See William could draw, cook and think
He knew things that wondered around in his head
He didn’t care about houses and cars
Just give him a can of beer—maybe his only friend

The law he had little regard—he broke a time or two
He gambled and ran scams
A con man he was indeed
Jailed so many times we all lost count
He would talk his way through

He’s dead—the nurse she told me
When I called on the phone
It’s hard to believe
He almost died at least a dozen times before
But this time it’s true—my brother is gone

The life he lived
No, I didn’t agree
I wanted him to be normal
If anyone knows what that means
I would fuss and preach
He would shrug and try to prove his point

Yes William died—I planned his funeral
A pretty black and white suit
One like from his picture
A white casket dressed his lifeless body

They sang songs and read scriptures
We all said words
His art work I put on display
More than just a drunk
I wanted everyone to know

Yes, William is dead I say as they lowered
Him into the ground
Dead is dead—I began to realize
(Maybe that’s why I started living)

He was just about to make it
His dreams about to unfold
He lost his sight—blind all of a sudden
Maybe that is what really killed him
Maybe it wasn’t the alcohol like we all did think

All he had left was to sketch and to draw
What’s the use of living?
If I can’t do what I love
His talents they were many
Poems too he did pen
Are they dead and buried?

No, I don’t think
Too many nieces and nephews to live them through
Science, math and art--He could even fix a car too.

My brother died
My father hollered
My mother prayed
I wrote a poem he gave me early one morning

He came to see me every night for a week
At first I was afraid
But he wouldn’t leave
Now I look for him
He comes from time to time
I’ll say hello and ask him a question
Then he’ll depart
I miss my brother
The one I told you that died