In 2005 I lost a hell of a friend. His name was Sam J. Lea. He was murdered for his possessions.
He had been kind heatedly allowing a homeless man stay in his home. This man ate all of his food on several occasions and Sam asked him to never come back. The man strangled him and took his truck and pawned his stuff.
Sam was an old soul, you could see it in his eyes. He was studying to be a photo journalist at UTA.. he would have been 26.
What perplexes me is.. how can someone rationalize how life is less important than things.
My soul is tired
My soul is tired, yet my eyes fail to weep anymore.
I search everywhere for signs of your existence.
I see every ones face in new distrusted light.
I look at them all different now.
Peering out of their souls
I hope to catch a glimpse of the evil that took you.
I need answers
I need understanding
yet the world of justice is failing
the media is silent once again.
Your old soul is not crying out anymore.
Your essence has been wiped out.
Never to breathe
Never to dance
Never to Sing
Never to make your voice heard
Never again to capture the world, through your lens.
Never to make me smile again.
Hatred towards all mankind has taken grasp.
Spiraling I lurch towards the black edges of night.
There is no ladder to help me out of this hole.
Your hand up is not there anymore.
As it was before, as it still should be.
Appallingly I consider how your life was less important than your things