You and I were always as close as two non-brothers could be.
We did everything together, remember those days, man?
It was you and me, always, we ran that little dead end street
on the west side of ashtabula, or so we thought.
Our whole lives were ahead of us,
and we were the masters of our own destinies.
Dude, you weren't just my best friend, you were the brother i never had.
I stuck up for you, and took more than a few punches for you,
because thats what brothers are supposed to do, right?
And then one day, I realized you werent the same person I grew up 4 houses down the street from anymore. Some where along the way you flipped, and became alien to me.
What made you carve that swastika in your arm, man?
You're not a nazi, you're not even German,
hell, you couldnt even spell 'swastika' back then.
Was it those weirds guys you hung out with at your private school who made you do it? Why did you change all of a sudden?That's not like you.
The Matt I know traded football cards and would skateboard for fun,
not carve hate symbols into his flesh with a nail.
Don't you remember all our talks, sitting on the docks fishing for catfish?
You said you wanted to design roller coasters when you grew up,
how can you do that sitting in a jail cell now?
Why did you have to rob that store? Huh?
If you needed money, you knew I always had your back.
You stupid ass, the cops followed your footprints in the snow straight back to your apartment,
how could you be so stupid?
You scared that cashier lady to death with that pistol you whipped out on her, I bet she still has nightmares about that night. Way to go, loser.
You know, when we used to have pogo stick jumping contests, or hid in the bushes to throw water balloons at the neighborhood girls, I never would've guessed I'd see your name in the newspaper one day for armed robbery. My how you surprise me.
We used to live for the summer, and you know it.
We had no job, no money, but what we did have was fun!
Do you even remember fighting over who could throw a football the farthest? Or whose bike was the fastest? Or filling your dad's car trunk full of leaves that one autumn afternoon?
Those were the good ol days, and you threw them all away.
I watched your slow collapse from reality, and couldnt do a thing about it.
You were your own man, you had your own agenda.
It's like I was watching a tree fall in slow motion over the course of 3 years. You just couldnt lay off the drugs like I hoped you could.
I think about you alot somedays,
and I hope you're doing fine sleeping on a 4x6 metal bunk bed,
eating your meals on a lunch tray,
serving out the remainder of your 16 years.
I hope you do a good job at hiding that stupid swastika on your arm in jail nowadays. I cant imagine what a big, black guy would do to a scrawny white guy with blonde hair and a hate symbol etched in his arm?
Sometimes I think I failed you as a friend,
and I hold myself partially responsible for your current state of affairs.
I know I shouldn't, because there's really nothing more I could have done back then. I guess it's just a testament to how close we really were.
Your brother is doing well, I see him from time to time when I'm in town.
He says he wants to go to a culinary school and become a chef someday.
Maybe he can serve your your first real meal when you get out.
We did everything together, remember those days, man?
It was you and me, always, we ran that little dead end street
on the west side of ashtabula, or so we thought.
Our whole lives were ahead of us,
and we were the masters of our own destinies.
Dude, you weren't just my best friend, you were the brother i never had.
I stuck up for you, and took more than a few punches for you,
because thats what brothers are supposed to do, right?
And then one day, I realized you werent the same person I grew up 4 houses down the street from anymore. Some where along the way you flipped, and became alien to me.
What made you carve that swastika in your arm, man?
You're not a nazi, you're not even German,
hell, you couldnt even spell 'swastika' back then.
Was it those weirds guys you hung out with at your private school who made you do it? Why did you change all of a sudden?That's not like you.
The Matt I know traded football cards and would skateboard for fun,
not carve hate symbols into his flesh with a nail.
Don't you remember all our talks, sitting on the docks fishing for catfish?
You said you wanted to design roller coasters when you grew up,
how can you do that sitting in a jail cell now?
Why did you have to rob that store? Huh?
If you needed money, you knew I always had your back.
You stupid ass, the cops followed your footprints in the snow straight back to your apartment,
how could you be so stupid?
You scared that cashier lady to death with that pistol you whipped out on her, I bet she still has nightmares about that night. Way to go, loser.
You know, when we used to have pogo stick jumping contests, or hid in the bushes to throw water balloons at the neighborhood girls, I never would've guessed I'd see your name in the newspaper one day for armed robbery. My how you surprise me.
We used to live for the summer, and you know it.
We had no job, no money, but what we did have was fun!
Do you even remember fighting over who could throw a football the farthest? Or whose bike was the fastest? Or filling your dad's car trunk full of leaves that one autumn afternoon?
Those were the good ol days, and you threw them all away.
I watched your slow collapse from reality, and couldnt do a thing about it.
You were your own man, you had your own agenda.
It's like I was watching a tree fall in slow motion over the course of 3 years. You just couldnt lay off the drugs like I hoped you could.
I think about you alot somedays,
and I hope you're doing fine sleeping on a 4x6 metal bunk bed,
eating your meals on a lunch tray,
serving out the remainder of your 16 years.
I hope you do a good job at hiding that stupid swastika on your arm in jail nowadays. I cant imagine what a big, black guy would do to a scrawny white guy with blonde hair and a hate symbol etched in his arm?
Sometimes I think I failed you as a friend,
and I hold myself partially responsible for your current state of affairs.
I know I shouldn't, because there's really nothing more I could have done back then. I guess it's just a testament to how close we really were.
Your brother is doing well, I see him from time to time when I'm in town.
He says he wants to go to a culinary school and become a chef someday.
Maybe he can serve your your first real meal when you get out.
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