It’s all loves fault.
I didn't want to be happy anyway,
why the **** did it have to come strolling along
to show me how asleep I've been.
Why did I give it the right to parade around me
and then keep marching off
with its drums and dancers,
leaving only confetti behind
and a wide-eyed person relentless
of letting go of the procession but
FORCED to clean up the massive mess on the street that
no one else seems to notice.
It’s in that same moment that we all realize,
we should never throw parties that big,
that festivities that grand shouldn't even be legal.
They’re messy and exhausting and the confetti is
too scattered
to rest assured that we’ll ever
clean every last bit up to toss away.
It’s in that moment that people assure us that
paper is biodegradable and that it just needs
time for the earth to make it natural.
But every bright piece of glitter that gleams on the street,
persistent and as present as ever, is simply
a reminder of that parade with its cheers and
the faint beats of the drums and the moment you had
to stand idly by and
watch it
go.