Henri-Frédéric Amiel
When I was young,
I thought all these places were at
my fingertips.
Greece, Italy, Mesapotamia, France,
he pyramids, the ocean
and the gods.
Flowing white sheer curtains open to
the air, not a smoky smelly screen
with squished flies. I got as far as
Grand Forks, didn't find the suitcase
and did Target. As for Egypt, I thought
it was a make-believe history class story.
Why did I wind down sitting still as a rock
on a piece of flat cold land where the only
water and wave you get is when the snow
melts and it's nice but hardly majestic.
Nothing glittery here.
Was it the children? No imagination?
No determination? No real guts. What
stopped me in my tracks...I did nothing.
It was done to me.
At least when I smile about it, people
think I'm great to be satisfied as a stone
staying back to hold down the fort. STOP.
Saying it so I don't believe in my thoughts
anymore. They won't change my world,
my mind, my stomach ache or my pain.
Now we can live with twenty to thirty
No comments:
Post a Comment