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#oldguystuff
I am not inconstant, But forever evolving, Not closed off, But not always open. I expose my heart Only when the sky darkens. I build toothpick-towers, Tantalizing torments Taller than trees. Chateaus of cards Whose hallowed halls Visitors seldom peruse, And even more rarely see. Young and foolish and bold, Thoughts all over the place, I spoke like a shotgun. My opinions explosions Verbal projectiles Going off in your face. I lived life by moments, I existed only then, Only there. Motivated by love, yes, But also by pain And by fear. Each memory Of each moment Represented By each fallen tear. Now older and wiser -That's either a laugh or a sin Haunted might be more apt- I find I write Too close to the skin. A subtle blade, Flirting, teasing, Razors edge longing to dive in. Vampiric voracity Obscured by imperfect opacity, Seeking the vitality within. Yet, What ****** force To unleash? What uncouth beast Would I be? Devouring Ravenous, That which sustains me? Better to starve, To choke on dust, Than to make that first **** Dooming myself To an eternal enmity Against my own will. I've heard it said that Wisdom is the product Of suffering and time. But what dear cost, What dire punishment, When youth is the crime? So I'll try to balance the scales With love and lessons learned, And relinquish remorse to rhyme.
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Jan 26, 2021
Jan 26, 2021 at 5:20 PM UTC
Jason_R_Michie
Growing Pains
I am not inconstant, But forever evolving, Not closed off, But not always open. I expose my heart Only when the sky darkens. I build toothpick-towers, Tantalizing torments Taller than trees. Chateaus of cards Whose hallowed halls Visitors seldom peruse, And even more rarely see. Young and foolish and bold, Thoughts all over the place, I spoke like a shotgun. My opinions explosions Verbal projectiles Going off in your face. I lived life by moments, I existed only then, Only there. Motivated by love, yes, But also by pain And by fear. Each memory Of each moment Represented By each fallen tear. Now older and wiser -That's either a laugh or a sin Haunted might be more apt- I find I write Too close to the skin. A subtle blade, Flirting, teasing, Razors edge longing to dive in. Vampiric voracity Obscured by imperfect opacity, Seeking the vitality within. Yet, What ****** force To unleash? What uncouth beast Would I be? Devouring Ravenous, That which sustains me? Better to starve, To choke on dust, Than to make that first **** Dooming myself To an eternal enmity Against my own will. I've heard it said that Wisdom is the product Of suffering and time. But what dear cost, What dire punishment, When youth is the crime? So I'll try to balance the scales With love and lessons learned, And relinquish remorse to rhyme.
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