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Open Your Eyes

Fatal Dawn

The Poetic Fatalist
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Dedicated to those who struggle.

“I will guide you to the very end, for I will be your God forever.”

Psalm 48:14







Open Your Eyes

[font=tahoma, helvetica, arial, sans-serif]Written by Fatal Dawn ©





Do you enjoy your life?

Or do you wish your life was better?



Now close your eyes…



Picture your friend in a pool of his own liquids

Cringing on concrete pavement, he lay tattered

Next to his skull, a bullet caked in brain matter

You’re losing him, his pulse is slowing down

Your heart’s breaking, tears are rolling down

He now begins to sluggishly breathe

You’re just praying he doesn’t leave

His mother will grieve

You can’t picture someone so special…at this stage

His body turning cold, his head raised



You can’t see it, can you?



His teeth clenched

His shirt drenched

Now picture yourself, trying not to collapse

Yelling, trying to flag down any cars that pass

Your heart beats with fear, your mind stricken with shock

Your mind flooded with images of when your friend dropped

Picture a feeling of helplessness as your friend calls your name

Every breath from his mouth fills him with tiring pain

You try to call for help, but your mouth is shivering

You try to run for help, but your knees are quivering

Picture your dearest pal’s weak body carried in a stretcher

Imagine knowing that he’s not going to get better

The paramedics can’t restart his heart

He’s not responding, dead on arrival



Now open your eyes…





Close your eyes… and picture yourself at a halfway-home

Surrounded by young depictions of wariness and hurt

A hundred tragic stories everywhere you turn

Abandoned children, scarred and scared

Hope, life has not yet spared

Look into their big eyes and lie

Tell them everything’s going to be alright

Tell them they won’t go to bed hungry

Tell them they won’t have any pains in their tummy

Tell them they will always be accepted, never rejected

Picture personal accounts of abusive homes

Listen to when they began to lose their hopes

Listen to times of when they were molested

Of times when they saw daddy got arrested

When their mother forgot to nourish them

When the older kids discouraged them

Hear their tiny voices and scary pasts

The world says they’re only brats







Open your eyes







Close your eyes, picture a tragedy at its fullest

Picture your family out for a Sunday Drive

Now imagine someone not coming back alive

Picture strolling the hills of corn and wheat

With your one-month child in the back seat

Smell the fragrance of the summer roses

It delights you as it fills your noses

The calm breezes drifting your face

Not a thing out of place

But out of nowhere fate takes its place

You don’t remember what happened

You wake up to midnight and your car’s flattened

Your neck is sprained but you still look about

Your wife is gone, and your son cries aloud

The police and several firemen arrive

You ask: “Please, where’s my wife”,

With hesitation, you look to the road, she lies without motion

Your head begins to hurt and you blackout among all the commotion

You wake up with a cast on your thigh

To your right, a nurse at your side who’s about to cry

You learn your wife had died on the spot

While your son is suffering from a blood clot

At that moment you lost all thought

You rush to your son’s room and he lies fast asleep

Tubes running into his stomach, and blood on the sheet

You hold your infant boy in your arms

The doctors say they are still alarmed

He survived surgery, which was certainly horrific

His brain has been damaged, he will live with it

And through it all, his spirit is lifted

Through all the bruising and internal bleeding

The doctors are thankful he’s still breathing



A miracle infant, some may say

And his daddy might tell him about mommy someday

But for now, as long as the sun shines

That little boy will surely follow close behind

Truly a miracle, so when that infant boy grows up

And is asked that question:

“Do you enjoy your life?

Or do you wish your life was better?”

He will know exactly what to say

Will you know what to say?



Open your eyes…







Mirror, Mirror

[font=tahoma, helvetica, arial, sans-serif]Written by Fatal Dawn ©



Now let me tell you a story about accepting the truth

Reflection and realization are the only proof

It started with an addiction to prescription

A beautiful mother of three meets this description



What’s the difference?

What was anyone to know?

She never smoked, inhaled vapors up her nose

But her sons knew immediately about her craving

Easy to tell by the way she was behaving

She would sleepwalk, cry in her bed

Yell crazy talk at invisible men

Always had a shaky stance, unsteady thumbs

She would beat her sons, forget to feed her sons

She was a different person, alive… but barely

She rose in the morning, tired and weary

At times it would get scary

She would pass out, not wake up for hours

Her heart stopped when she was in the shower

All the time she didn’t notice any problem

Turned a blind eye when her boyfriend robbed them

She would have many boyfriends, most were abusive

They would sleep with her even if she refused it

She took drugs and cried in the bathroom stall

She didn’t want her sons to see she was a helpless doll

The situation got worse; she applied for a new career

She left for the night, came back with ribbon in her hair

Her three sons waited alone in the home

When she came back late smelling like cologne

Their mommy was a prostitute, it broke their little hearts

They had to put a stop before she rips herself apart

They held a mirror to her face, her three sons

Said, “Mommy, take a look at what you’ve become”

Seeing a disgruntled woman with purple lipstick

The hollow hole in her heart ripped thick

She dropped to her knees in a great burst of pain

Experienced an ocean of hurt, emotionally drained



Mirror, Mirror
 
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