It is the little things we see
that turn us into giants
one day I'll be
a giant too
and so will you.

We can gather moss or rolling stones,
each have homes,
a place to be
but not in this society,
ignore them if you will but
they're still there.

The cemetery is full of dreams,
unfocused light
screams in the night where
giants fight,
stones and moss and
one more loss.

Every separation
that I have ever known has grown into
a giant too, as if the giants always knew
what I did not.

In the inner of my inner self
I reach up and take a bit more
off the shelf
where my heart beats
where each end meets the beginning and
the beginning is the start of the end and
continue.

This,
the giants always knew
One day,
I'll be a giant too