The day I left home was a bright one,
With a blue sky painted over
The hemisphere of my vertical view
And little specks of foam
Sailed on the sea above me
As I trampled the green grass
Of my childhood yard.
I peered into the open garage
And saw a little boy, the age of seven,
Limping with a boil on his leg
And a smile on his face
After singeing his leg on the muffler
Of his father's motorcycle
And he knew in that moment
He'd be there forever.
I looked in the window of the basement
And I saw a young man kiss
A young girl he loved.
They had just embarked upon
a journey to last a lifetime.
He and she knew they'd be there forever.
The same boy, practicing his craft,
Sent sound through the upstairs window
Keeping his eyes locked on the note heads
And the chord symbols on his lead sheet book
And exploring the world he hoped
Would be the one he lived in
For the rest of his life and career,
But he knew that he'd be there forever.
And now I've up and gone
To a place far away, where the sky
Is always bluer and bluer still.
And I still kiss the girl,
And I still read the music.
And even though I've made my house
Many a mile away from that...
That memory filled dwelling of a place...
The day I left home?
I never really left.
YOU ARE READING
Not From Chicago.
PoetryThis is a collection of my best poetry in my opinion! I hope you enjoy, whoever may paint their eyes over the letters and words I've arranged! PS-This book includes poems from "A World In Words" by yours truly. Go check out the other book, if you li...
