A few rain drops landed, on a shoe strapped too tight.
We drank down the coffee, through the dead of the night,
Then moved on to mourning with a bottle of gin,
Killing ourselves over Luke and his grin.
We walked to the lake, where the past was still broke,
and gazed at the water, 'till somebody spoke:
"We shouldn't have done it. I'll miss that damn chap."
"We had no other option, now keep shut your trap."
A squabble, some blood, on overgrown grass.
"I'm not to blame, we all killed his ass!"
Each looked over their shoulder, then downward with shame.
We watched our breath mist, all thinking the same:
"We'll get away with murder, no body will be found.
But this place is too quiet, I suppose I'll leave town."
Three would sleep in their cars, keep the coast in their sight.
Two would take a revolver, and be dead by next night.
All travelers would dream, of a spook in their head.
Just one laughed with his brother, knowing Luke wasn't dead.
Created: Feb 04, 2010Document Media