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The Bullet

"Daddy don't leave me," she choked, holding him in her arms
"Don't be sad when you remember me," his life's last words drifted to her
Cut down for what he believed was right, he loved too much to survive
In the pool of red blood was the bullet that had torn out his heart
Gripping in her hand the instrument that took her soul, in a man
What once held her so strong, was a husk being carried away
In death's cocoon, but the bullet still remained

And she hung it on a chain, to rest upon her throbbing chest
To keep a cold reminder of him, and to never forget
Wherever she'd go it would jingle as a warning to those who cared
Many had sought her, so lovely she appeared
And a kindness would radiate from her, touching many a man
But between her and all who cared, was the bullet she'd held in her hand
Years would pass and many would come and go
Trying to love with the depth that would permeate her sorrow
But be blocked when the lead gave out a warning to stop

One night as she unbuttoned her blouse and looked between her breasts
Where once had been a heart of flesh was an empty space where the bullet rested
Steely, and deathly, it had taken her heart, like it tore her father's away
Daddy wasn't with her anymore, but his murderer remained
A black hole, where once was a lover, it had carved out from her passion
Lamenting, she wandered how she could live without her poison jewel

She took the bullet from her chain and buried it with him
And the light that once was extinguished, was slowly glowing dim
She cried like never before over the rock that covered Daddy, taken from her arms
Emotions she had never felt were pouring from her skin
And Daddy, lying beneath, could not caress her to kiss them away
She hugged the sharp-edged stone, and sat on the lip, like she once sat on his lap
Barren and hard, with only a date, as if that was all that mattered
How could she now go on? Her defense was all that had saved her
When she saw a flower growing in the wake of her days of mourning
Somewhere she had never been, but with all her being wanted to be
She held her Daddy, and he smiled with the sun, and handed an orchid to his little girl
And she felt him like never before, and life, for the very first time

March 13, 7:10 pm Copyright 1999 Michael Paul