FRED’S EYES
I watched him die.
I held him in my arms
and saw the life drain
from his frightened eyes.
I watched my fucking best friend die.
They stabbed him five times in the back,
then they ran off through the dark streets laughing.
And now I'm here again, out late,
hands buried in my pockets,
with my hoodie up and walking fast.
Except the streets don’t look the same.
(I watched him die. I watched him die.)
How you gonna keep it straight
when everything you knew has changed?
My best friend Freddy’s eyes, in death,
refuse to let me shut my own.
I lay awake for hours,
staring blankly at the circle
made by damp rot in the ceiling.
Tomorrow I will buy a gun
(I WATCHED HIM DIE. I WATCHED HIM DIE.)
My plan’s to smear the walls with blood,
my blood, go where it doesn’t hurt.
Every time I lie down
on my fucking bed, Fred dies.
--Bruce Hodder
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