I exist, little more
than as a cautionary tale
of what happens, when one time to many,
I was told to wait,
to be patient,
to plan
to put things off for a future I wanted to be living today.
I'm still waiting. But I can feel the walls relax.
Writing isn't therapy but its better to see
All the pent up lunacy
In words, collected, singing on paper
How I feel when someone forgets about me.
Selfish. Why should they?
When all the things I like about me are what drive people away.
They never say that I am the problem
To them, its them.
While to me, their everything
Feels like my heart aches
For someone to help me fix
What I didn't break.
the day smells like pumpkins drying after a rain storm.
rich earth mingling with warm memories
remember sitting, enjoying coffee, reading
remember tobacco burning the same yellowed skin spot
those leaves crackling under people walking by
why do memories come alive after so many years asleep.
like some zombie summoned by Solomon.
life,
a dance,
an incantation to summon lost things
an invitation to remember
That's the anthem that they chose to sing
since I was a little kid.
They put the burden on my shoulders
as soon as I could stand.
Come and save the world
Is what people say.
With what would they have me do?
They took away education.
They took away blame to ongoing abusers.
They made it my concern with commercials
storybooks and programs to save the whales.
They told me to save the world
Then took no ownership of what had been done.
Generations of wealth
But they leave me with none.
Sing to me a song of golden sand
Of water wheels and boats
Of mermaids swimming through the rivulets
sing to me of ancient Rome about the world
about the people
sing me a song of golden sand laughing at the waves