The Note
A poem by Morgan Juarez-Murray
A poem by Morgan Juarez-Murray
Big Brother left this morning
As well a note upon his bed.
The note was by far a warning
For us to feel no dread.
My mother is in mourning,
She thinks Big Brother’s dead,
But I know he’s on a trip
I don’t know where he’s head.
Mother too, left a warning,
As well as locked my door.
Father’s grunts and groans,
A thump upon the floor.
Mother makes her sobs known,
Police are at the door.
They wish something had been done,
Boots upon the floor.
Father tells the story,
Mother raps my door.
I tell it to them truthfully
As truthful as my core.
Every night I see a man, his body draped in black,
He yells and screams and makes my eardrums crack.
But now Big Brother's there, he pushes away the fool.
He smiles and gives me comfort he asks me "What’s new?”
He whispers through my window through the little crack,
He tells me stories and why this world is whack.
He tells me he's on a trip all around the world,
He assured me he'll be back as soon as the time occurs.