The haunted echoes of the stairwell pound in my head at age 17
The stained visions of that past play through out my day
Pain and guilt overflow my heart and pour out into my soul
At age 4 it happen but still at age 17 I recall
One peaceful night
One bedroom
Two beds
Two friends upstairs suppose to be sleeping
Me, age 4 and a kid age two
One calm night
One stairwell
Three adults watching T.V. in the living room downstairs
My parents and the kid's mom
One perfect night
A kid, age 2, getting out of his bed
Me, age 4, bringing him back
One time though, became two and two became three, and three to ten
The kid,age 2, wouldn't stop and Me, age 4, became fed up
The final performance of the night though, came a bit later
The kid, age 2, stood at the top of the stairs
Toes poking over the edge
Me, age 4, got out of bed, walked over to him and stood right behind him
Me, age 4, stupid, naive, tired, and a bit angry, grab not his arm or sleeve
But instead yelled out for dear daddy
He called back, 'I'm coming' and 'Be right there'
Sadly though, he was a second too slow
The kid, age 2, fell to his doom
To me it was like a dream, in slow motion
The kid was unconscious at the bottom of the stairs
The adults freaked out and called the cops
Me, age 4, stunned and shocked, stood at the top of the stairs
Thinking lots of thoughts
Was it my fault?
What happened?
Could I have save him?
What could I do?
Me, age 4, had no clue and all through my life I still didn't
It was lost in the sirens of the police cars and the foster homes
But now, age 17, I finally realize it all, it all became clear
It is true I could have done something, I could have save that kid, age 2
But, age 4, I didn't and now, age 17 and on I have to live with it
A scar to wear but not to show
Me, age 17, finally letting it all out,
Found the answers to the questions asked at age 4
Finding the strength and courage to let the scar heal and forgive myself at age 17
For the things I didn't do that night at age 4