So when we die, we see it all.

From a heavenly seat

From high up we see people move

So high up that you see the remains of discarded thoughts.

I find people paying taxes and spanking their children.

I hear others think about quitting smoking and banging their sisters.

I see and I hear people living out their lives,

Until I see a man, on his knees, feeling guilt.

I find him next to a man faced down, in a puddle of beer.

I hear him thinking why and I can't believe...

I look at the fallen man, his head cut open,

I look at the other, beer in his breath,

And under his knees, a broken bottle.

The lying man had a familiar scar across his face.

I put my hand on my own face

And followed the scar with my finger

Until it ran into a deep cut.