White Nights

Another sleepless night, white night,
Images running in my head, a sight,
Same images that were with me for decades,
Same dark pictures in their one-color shades
As of last year, I have a few new ones,
The last words, of a dying man, my father
“Help Me” – his lips whisper,
There is nothing I can do, helplessness,
I was not there for him, in his time of need and stress,
Yet that picture is burnt and seared into my brain,
Scorched into a memory that never really was,
Nevertheless, is,
My cross to bear, my mark of Cain,
My guilt, my ball and chain,
My always “there” companion,
My tribe’s only true friend,

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