Older Chests, Younger Men

The old chests were where
we kept the secrets
of past years, when children laughed
at mother’s sparkling eyes
and father’s expansive works.

Now, I think someone stole them;
those chests painted white and black
with gold trimming
and the golden, locking clasp.

They stole them, along with other things
that I had thought I would keep
to look back on better days
when the air was good
and I was still living a dream.

But they’re gone now, stolen,
by the growing up of life
that calls little boys like me
to stand, learn, work, and be
the men we are not
and didn’t want to see.

Author notes

Who decided that boys have to grow up and become men? Why can't it be that we keep the best of both of those worlds; the young and the old, mingled in beautiful connections. Maybe I'll find a way to do what no one else seems to have been able to...

-thefallout
www.theeverlastingfallout.com/read