Tomorrow
Found South,
Crying,
In the park,
Which does not exist,
In the place called reality,
But instead in a delicate place,
In our minds
We sat on the curb,
Outside of my house,
Silent,
Silent,
I'm not used to this,
Being the one comforting,
Another,
I have no idea,
What to say,
Silent,
Silent
"You ok?"
I ask stupidly,
"No,"
He admits,
I laugh,
He smiles,
But everything is not ok,
There's still pain,
Hurt,
Questions,
As to why a perfect person,
Is finding himself in,
An imperfect situation
"Ice cream?"
I ask,
I know a place,
Where I haven't been,
In awhile,
Because last time,
Gage was there,
And so was she,
But ice cream sounds good,
It's been a long few days
"Sure."
We get up and leave,
Travel down the way,
And find ourselves there,
At the shoppe,
I offer to pay,
But being a gentleman,
He refuses,
I protest,
But to no avail,
And so I find myself,
Sitting at a table,
Across from my best friend,
Who looks more miserable,
Then I've ever seen him
"You ok?"
I ask again,
No response,
Just the sound,
Of background noise,
Laughter of children,
Seems so trivial,
Outmatched,
By what we see now
"Things get better,
Promise,"
Even if I don't believe it,
He needs it now,
So I'll tell him,
He merely nods,
Eats his ice cream,
I know the feeling,
Of being lost,
Alone, afraid,
Both of what was,
And what will be
"Tomorrow is,
Another day,
Promise."
YOU ARE READING
Virtual
Thơ caNova loves three things: food, her computer, and her music. She might love Gage too, but why even try? She's Nova the Nobody. This "book" is told through poems. See the Author's Note.