By: Wendy Shywalker

I am sorry Pop, I haven't got time today.
Who could you possibly be visiting here?
No! Any one but him Pop.
Anyone... but him.
I see his face he's smiling at me, it hurts to look at that smile,
to look at that face, after all this time it still gloats and smirks.
Jail hasn't dimmed its conceit or contempt.
Oh come on Pop, you can't believe him, after he tried to kill you.
But of course you do, everyone is redeemable in your eyes.
No, not everyone Pop.
Of course my feelings, might have something to do with it, what he did to me.
What do you think?
I still remember that needle, feeling helpless, knowing I was going to
die that day.
Die with strangers around me, people who didn't care about me, or my
death, didn't even know my name.
They only cared what the shell of me would have provided for them.
And there he was smiling over me, as the drugs started their journey
through my body.
There he was as my life ebbed from me, smiling,
relishing my last breaths of existence.
This is the man you believe has changed.
He wanted me dead Pop, do you understand?
He wanted to kill your son, forgivable, maybe for you.
I am sorry, I can't be that forgiving, he tried to kill my father,
I could have lost you again.
I will never be ready to loose you Pop, but I realize
that one day I may have to.
I am willing to give my life in the line of duty, I am willing
to give me life for yours.
But I refuse to loose you, to loose my life to a man's
quest for power and self importance.
Why do allow this man one more moment of your time,
one more moment of our time.
But you will see him, you will try to see the good that isn't there.
You will try and help him, redeem him and you will forgive him.
But what if you are wrong,
and what if I am right