Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Apr 2017
We rode into the morning
and challenged the sun,
all boiling blood and fevered skin
and silence.

We were afraid to be proud of us.
We were afraid to hurt our others.
We were so afraid to live
regretting our prudence.

It's different now, though;
we're different now
and I am not better.
I'm not so good these days.
I think of you often.

Our hands were magnets
and our bodies iron.
We were young.
We have grown, but
I think we'd still fit into that dream.
We'd fit rather well.

I haven't broken my promise,
But I don't believe
I'll be able to fulfill it.
You're a wonder when you aren't
being held back,
and I am a little proud that
I am not that hindrance.
Joe Workman
Written by
Joe Workman  36/M
(36/M)   
Please log in to view and add comments on poems