Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Nov 2020
He is tired
of being
as he sings
sweet dream
into everyone else’s days.

Tentative steps,
softened breathes
slowed as
others gasp
and ask
what was that.

Blurry visions,
of what was missing,
pillow imprints
slowly losing
any hint
of human warmth,
as humans swarm
buzzing about,
crying out loud.

“Where did you go?”

Tiny tracks
are filled in
with time’s
ever moving
and all of the
grown ups missed it.

Where are you?”

No clues to use,
no missing shoes,
just a wide open window.

Parents ponder,
wondering were could he go
without sturdy winter clothes.

They forget
all the things they said,
memories mingle
with regret,
and a fear of what is yet
to come.

How young was the sun,
how warm could he be
as his body grew numb?
Why would such a little one
let himself succumb
to the cold creeping
forever sleeping
winter ending.

was so much more pleasing,
a releasing
of all that he was seeing,
and feeling,

better than the bitter drilling
of brutal home beatings,
and grade school cruelty.

He preferred being frosty.

Not too far from his house,
safely sitting in
a metal spiral
ditch drainage

any shuddering,
letting each thin limb
give in
to winter’s mercy
as his revenge
against all of them.
Written by
Graff1980  40/M/Litchfield Illinois
(40/M/Litchfield Illinois)   
Please log in to view and add comments on poems