The

little boy

runs through my room

Get out you little gnat!

He never knows when to stop

Never stops

Oh! he just loves to laugh and live life like it's a lively joke.

He has the eyes of mine

The hair of mine



Not a single thought of what's to come

Blissful ignorance to what he was

Leaving me to wonder how

All he loves is here and now



And then he does

He leaves my room and fades

Wondrously he walks through warm air and wanes into wisps of wind

Now I

Now I miss that air greatly

And I slump back in bed

In my cage of

consciousness

trapped

It always seems the easiest

for them to come to you.

But I must pause

lest forget

to flip the script, too.

I wonder if I had lived somewhere

other than Rochester.

(Minneapolis?)

What would I be?



I can not help but

keep longing for that air

OH! all the air that's there!



I'm old.

And the ******* millennials are

pouring over and I am just

stuck.

Who will I be?

after all this fire

surrenders to dusk?



But the silent air screams

LOUDEST

in my ears.

However I can't fight back

for Life's too powerful

and I am left with water

so much black water

that can not be drained.



It was the most important decision

in my life and for all those around me.

I swear my feet land by my decision

but I can not help but wonder

what would I be?

if I had lived somewhere

other than Rochester?

Nothing hurt my eyes any more

than seeing the

strongest girl I know

cry.



Then why wasn't I?



The golden light loomed over us

as we were told

our bedrooms could change

soon,



for a brick building in the city

was about to serve no more.

And my only bit of hope

balanced on the promise

my parents will do their very best

I hold Happiness on my back

I bought it how we make it.

But I keep fumbling and stumbling

through the world

because this Happiness doesn't fit on my back.

Through fruitless attempts

I drip gallons of sweat

to lift this Happiness onto my back.

For it was manufactured in squares and boxes.

Time to make my own.

Her mother never loved her

At least she never showed

Never asked her daughter's feelings

So Love, the girl didn't know



My mother can't understand me

She doesn't know how I feel

And so she often yells my faults

So I hide from what is real



I never could handle children

My attempts for empathy fail

My daughter screams she hates me

And fights me tooth and nail

Do you feel the blades in you

The sharp pain of the knife

Aching as you build up to have

Your king's hand touch the sky



All the blood in the meadow

For gods, for goods, for gain

How many on the battlefield

Were so mercilessly slain



We live in the result

of thousands upon thousands

of years

of pain

and sorrow

and effort

and intellect