this ain't a poem

We sat under the shade trees, avoiding the same reality.

We day-dreamt of better tomorrows.

We fought the same fight.

Something shifted, something changed.

I went one way, and you, another.

I miss you, brother.

Politics and familial bullshit,

I creep your page and see your pics.

I can’t believe how much we look alike.

We look just like Mom, and somehow like our dad.

I hope you’re as happy as you look,

That life has been kind these nearly twenty years since we spoke.