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Years

I will never truly see, how you could sit and watch

As they grew without you or your presence

You knew they needed a statue to grow

Like ivy climbing a wall

Yet instead, you buried your head in the alcohol

No one forced your hand

No one held a gun to your head

It was your choice, YOUR choice to sow the seeds of these vines

Yet you turned your back, and like a careless entity

let them grow, all alone with nothing to cling to but the crumbling walls of a downtrodden building

Built up by man

Strengthened, by his desire to create

Weakened, by his neglect, and the maltreatment of others

Why, Why would you sit by and watch, from a distance?

How could you stop caring?

These vines were yours, this ivy, YOU planted.

And like a child, you chose to throw them aside like they were nothing

Years go by, the vines have climbed their way up the wall, thick, and strong.

Surviving on their own, with the wall to support.

I guess, maybe you thought it was best?

Maybe, it was what was right, to let them grow on their own, to fight, and scratch, and claw their way up on their own.

They became stronger that way, relying on a broken surface to guide them.

So that they would not become like you.

The withered, hollow hull of a man, longing for a second chance, to tend to his ivy.

Maybe your chance isnt gone

Maybe, there is still time.

Not for the grown, Lush ivy that stands, but for the ivy they will one day themselves, sow.

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Written by
corbin-michael
American
Published
Jun 17, 2013
Lines·Words
27·275
Permission

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