I have blood on my hands
I killed a good friend of mine
I was in my room laughing
When I broke his spine

I Lifted him..
Looked at him..
Saw the glaze in his eyes..
Swallowed my cries
And wondered,

Will his ghost flutter..
As we miss him..
In our kitchen
In our yard?

Will his call carry..
As a whisper
In my memory
In the morning?

The wall looks so empty now
The yard so sad

He wanted to know us and with time he did
Our yard was his refuge, the place where he hid
But without knowing, I made his head crack
All because
I set
A goddamn rat trap.

We'll miss you Pigeto.

R.I.P