You saw him.
You tell them.
The man in the sky;
With the balloon head,
The mystical eyes.
You saw him looking,
Through window number three.
Begged to show them.
They ignored your plea.
They called you mad; shrewd; insane.
"There is no space man"
"You should be ashamed"
You saw the man.
The next night;
He smiled,
You ignored.
He went away.
Only to return the next day.
And the next.
And the next...
It's been 22 years since you've seen the man from nebula 0330.
You have a wife.
Children.
Your son;
He came
Screaming
Crying
Explaining.
"The man
In the window
He knows your name."
You giggle and push him away.
He persists.
"Daddy
The spaceman.
He knows you.
And says hello."
Your face
Flushes.
You turn to your left.
There.
The man.
From nebula 0330
In window number 3,
After all these years,
Has come to say his final
Goodbye
And
Hello.
YOU ARE READING
Milk
Poetry~Childlike poetry from a childlike author.~ Poetry for the next generation. "The leaves They fell And hit the ground with a familiar thud Thud Thud Thud" *Viewer discretion is advised. Despite the title, Milk may contain themes some may fi...
