Portrait

The mother wrings her hands
in desperation at the tragedy
the look of tired helplessness
unfolds like the twisted petals
of the rose nobody wishes for

The father sits and rests his head
against the white and clammy palms
so heavy from the weight of years
replaying all the memories
the very worst film in town

The brother kneels before the bed
his frantic, hoping supplication
a flood of bitter tears sustained
the belated pose of entreaty
too late to ask for second chances