That day the angels came,
You were not aware,
You were not here or there or
Anywhere.
The day the devil asked,
“Where are you, where the hell
Did you go?”
You did not answer.
You must have been in bed we
Left far too many messages on your
Telephone.
You were not
A very good friend to that woman who
Claimed, for all intent, for all purpose,
To be your sister.
The day the demon ate your fruit,
You made no move to stop him, that bastard,
A thief, a cheat, a stolen glance
At your sister.
You never learned to ask ill-fated questions,
Such as,
“Where are you?”
“And how was your day?”
You never wanted to know such things
Anyway.
The day the angels came,
You slept in, a glorious day.
The day the world came to a standstill,
You had too many bills to pay.
The day the beating halted,
The day your slumber paused,
A beautiful day, most would say,
Who was she?
Your sister, good sir, your sister.
