The sharp pain
of the chain against the
coolness of your pole
keeps me up
Your chain is weightless,
no longer tied to the
tetherball that
pulls it down during
the hours that the kids play,
screaming and shouting
to see who will win.
The real fun
begins in the night,
I listen for the soothe
ache and calmness
that this one song brings me
The wind reminding me,
of the freedom that I have.
Telling me that I am not
the one who is chained
You are constant,
like the man who can never
find his peace,
praying in his church every night
Understand that when I hear you
I can feel myself with you,
to picture my figure sitting on
the hard blacktop,
watching your chain become restless
I then picture myself on my roof,
easily watching the stars and contemplating
whether or not you'd understand
my thoughts of galaxies if I told you.
You've watched the stars,
same as I.
But I know the freedom of them,
while you may only dream of it
How careful I must be,
to watch and listen to you
To understand that your chain,
is like a child forced to endure
a punishment that he does not deserve.
I listen and wait in my room
the window slid open
Just a little,
enough to hear you over the
movements in my home.
I catch myself wondering
some days
If someday in the future
when I am gone and grown,
that when I return to visit
you'll despise me
That my love and admiration
for you was not enough
to keep at bay
the hatred
that brewed out of having to stay.
The scars of your world of
laughter and innocence
opened to infections of jealousy
I would wonder if my love
opened your first wound,
knowing without an answer that it was
My love for you
showing you my possibilities
without giving you any
like a starved man
chained and forced to watch
those already full continuing to eat more.
For now I will continue
to swim in obliviousness
in my love for you,
ignoring your grunts of pain
and instead dreaming while
listening to the sounds you are forced to create,
in the silence of all things around you that are free.
YOU ARE READING
A Book of Words That Never Seem To Be Enough
PoetryA book filled with words that I thought made sense, but they never seem to be enough. *warning* emotional, messy, raw and full of sadness (sometimes a little happiness here and there) I hope you give my words a chance, maybe they'll be enough for yo...
