One Headlight

So long ago,I don't remember when....that's when they said I lost my only friend.

I returned to my hometown for a early morning funeral for someone I consider my friend.
The long arm of human law, death has taken her. They whisper she died of a broken heart as I sit here back in the trees watching the funeral. She had such a pretty face, so much potential it seems a waste that she choose to stay here and try to make it better. I never did understand how she stayed when I left. This place was so run down and messed up. I remember I used to think the only way out was dying. That I would die here in this city. This city that dreams died in.

She used to say, "Hey, come on try a little , nothing lasts forever. There's got to be something better than being stuck in the middle of of all this."

She made me believe that we could do it. She made anyone she spoke to want to try. Want to find something better. She gave hope. And yet she stayed and helped even more.

She used to say, "Even a car with one headlight can get you home."

She and I, we put it all together so I rise up and out. But she stayed to help others.

She would say, There's got to be an opening, somewhere here in front of you. Through this maze of ugliness and greed for you to get out."

When I finally found my way out she was there.

She told me, as we stoped at the county line bridge on my way out of this city, "It's cold but this is your independence day. Today we celebrate your freedom. But I have to stay. This parade needs me to help others. Remember, all there's good in the world is there for you. This nothingness is dead and gone, now in your past."

I was scared to leave all I knew. So she said "Lets run!" and ran with me, helped me past this last part. Over the bridge and out of the city until she ran out of breath. Like she was giving me one last push with all her heart. It seemed so strange at the time, running over a silly bridge. But it meant more than I knew. But she ran until there was nothing left. Helped so many but each failure she took to heart and it must have got to her. It must have broke her heart. The ones that would not, could not get out. She ran out of hope. She hit her end and found it at the edge of a window ledge.

I wander this place where I grew up. I look around at the mess, the poverty and the squalor. They say she died of a broken heart disease. Too many she could not help. Those who would not help themselves rise up out of this hell hole they were born in. It stinks of cigarettes and cheap wine. How could she stand it? Sometimes I think I would like to watch it burn. This place that destroyed someone like her.

Right now, I feel so alone and I feel like somebody else. The memories of who I was, where I came from and who am I now. I know I have not changed but I know am not the same person I was when I was here. This place is so old and run down. It feels like the truck I used too own when I was here. Always on the verge of dying on me. The one that died before I left. Now, it just will not start anymore. The life has left. She has left.