All those dreams I had when I was a scrapped knee, waist tall, mother’s angel…
Where have they all gone?
The tiny desk in that first grade classroom.
…White wings to dust.
Bedtime stories I listened to before I was tucked in.
…The end of my book is always the same.
Toy soldiers and building blocks sit in a crowded attic.
…Just another rat in the cage.
Chilled cup of apple juice has become a chilled bottle of vodka.
…A candle at the end of its wick.
The flavored vitamins have turned to bitter pills.
…Closer to death with every breath.
Tears I shed are entirely meaningless.
…Hopeless I was- I am- still.
My dad has a hazy look in his eyes.
It wasn’t always like that.
I now prefer rainy days rather than the sunny, cheery, snow cone ones.
I guess I feel it’s a proper attire for my life.
There is a brave, towering, father oak tree in the yard.
I remember planting the tree when it was a baby.
I prefer listening to miserably sad songs.
Perhaps because it is all I now know.
My friends don’t call me anymore.
I guess it is only natural as time goes on.
Pictures from the photo album make me cry.
The joy I once had is caught on those flimsy Kodak pictures.
Sometimes I run into the shells of my childhood friends.
I am always embarrassed by the lack of progression in my life.
I like to hold my hand on my chest and feel my heart beat.
It reminds me that I am still alive.
We all need that reminder at times.
Just another nightmare.
Go to sleep my child.
Just a dream.
Please tell me what you think
Comments
1 - 5 of 5
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I love this poem, it brings back so many childhood memories for me and I think that we all need to remember our childhoods from time to time and I think that you did a wonderful thing in writing and bring back childhood to a lot of people who don't really think about it all that much.
~Alix -
This makes me cry, this too is my story, the joy i used to find in the simple things, well, the cycle of addiction beat me down and mad eme so fearful, I was scared of anything, least of all, anything happy or cheerful....and my night terrors unfortunately continue without the drugs....ty for sharing this and delving deep into your soul and pouring out....
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I couldn't type "A Verdict" in the space provided because I didn't know what to say. You are so much younger than I am and yet every word of yours that I read plays out like my life. If I hadn't had thirty years to stretch the pain over, unlike your mere twenty, I surely would have gone mad. Or madder than I am now. I could have written this, had I been able to find the words. This is your story and yet it is mine, as well. Your words make me ache, poet. They would make me ache even if I was a "normal" and happy and well-adjusted person. When times get dark and rough, always remember that you have an outstanding gift, and through that gift you may just be helping countless scores of people. You have helped me tonight just by making me feel a little less alone in this mess of addiction.
FaeRae
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You, know your poetry always transports me into a visual scene to watch as I read, and i connect always with them. Your words flow like bourbon over ice....chilling yet smooth. And a kick in the ass....
amazing job yet again my lovely man. You amaze me everyday with your words. KEep it coming, you always manage to bring tears to my eyes when i read, i love you though ok...hopefully talk to you soon!
Always and forever
Emily
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well this poem is a great reminder that you are alive. awesome talent you have. I loved how you take the reader on a journey through your world...sweet and tender...great job. peace and light, kp
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