"foundational" poems
foundational fluctuation
as flatulence is introduced
that’s right
**** jokes
pppfffrrrttttt
destroying families
undermining relationships
damaging friendships
ending love
breaking the mold
extinguishing the fire
eliminating the excitement
drowning fun
and smelling bad –
pretentious vegetarian
wind walker
kale excretions
cabbage attack
cauliflower bandit
spreading propaganda
and funk
while talking trash
about cigarette smokers –
I could go on for days
making egg comments
referring to the arrival of Eddie’s
big brown shark –
Jul 17, 2014
Jul 17, 2014 at 6:27 PM UTC
LOVE? Connotative of so many different things, one conjures up vastly intricate definitions of the word. To what extent their truth reaches is indicative of their author’s own relationships, childhood, future and past. To be asked what love truly is, is to allow another to peer inside of your soul, to reach the depth and breadth of your entity and to relinquish your fears and dreams to them, simultaneously. Asked today for my opinion, I deferred my response, realizing I myself hadn’t considered a solid definition. Seemingly such a simple concept; really a foundational core, underpinning our self worth, self adoration and self identity.
Love is unique, to everyone. It can be explained through the use of analogies. Stereotypes. In some ways, our ‘idealistic love’ is a window for our selfish, impeded selves to climb out of. We expect our lover to propel us into some sort of surreal, unchallenged fairy-tale romance, irregardless of the modern day reality we’re living out. We expect worlds to stop, planets to align and stars to shower upon us in some picturesque dream come true. However, referring to love in stereotypes can be impersonal and superficial. I find love can be best defined by a persons own experiences, dreams, fears and desires.
A lover can help realize and form these definitions.
To me, love is resting my head between the curve of his shoulder and my sheets. Love is watching a summer storm roll in together, dry and safe. Love is observation; of passion, of fear and of delight. Love is acceptance. There’s nothing more beautiful than knowing and being known. Nothing more beautiful than opening yourself up to someone, being with them in complete serenity, complete coexistence and honesty.
Rolling over and looking into their eyes, and silently whispering, “I love you.”
That to me is love.
- c.m
Aug 13, 2013
Aug 13, 2013 at 12:52 PM UTC
There was a squandering ember that climbed her spinal chord
and lit the deteriorating birchwood on the peach-fuzzed tea lamps.
When those stairwells cramped and swelled with staggered liquid terraces
in the foundational pin-cushion that cradled family after family.
Woe begone chants that railed support beams moaning under elemental abuse.
A litter of ghost kittens coiling underfoot where the rug
used to yawn before the grandfather clock,
now senile and rotting with absent-minded tick-tocks.
Inside her streetcorner, the music was that
monkey hopping to street ***** blue notes on somber ropes.
The air thick with the regal, chunky vibe
of batting eyes, flirty sighs, and bourbon.
Between the buildings again...
embraced with the same warm feeling that
entrances your fingertips, lips, and ears when within a man's arms.
In this city, Love is those two birds on that same powerline
that bowed and ebbed with summer's sweet sigh.
Sep 23, 2011
Sep 23, 2011 at 11:47 PM UTC
long before light graced
beyond my sealed lids,
a gray lady sat sewing
squares, "for foundation."
her accent was like the
magenta strips with
which she bordered:
a boy needs foundation,
boundaries to teach him
his boundlessness, dirt
in which to sink his feet.
and unlike my foundational
quilt, linked so firmly to the earth,
she faded
first to rose, and then
to silver pink before
dissipating
into dusted petal wither.
i'll meet her on the next go around.
my sixteenth was bitter-themed
and my parents gave me
a mexican blanket,
colored like mother,
aqueous aquamarine
and patterned like father,
those angular and triangular
movements;
woven just like theirs,
to give me rest and
haven on the roads
of my inevitable adventures.
and when i am eighteen
the women of my family
will meet with needles
and spools, and wool
to click-clack and chit-chat
over my adulthood -
and when it is done,
i will behold azure
like the heavens
entangled with warm tones
and spun prayers
to cocoon
in the chill of
carolina's coast
Oct 7, 2014
Oct 7, 2014 at 3:06 PM UTC
not rooted,
not foundational,
but transitional,
I mean - tabernacle.
Following cloud and flame,
and restless for Jordan.
not stilted
not intellectual
but relational,
more than routine ritual.
Led by spirit, filled by flame
and restless for Jordan.
Apr 16, 2019
Apr 16, 2019 at 12:32 PM UTC
As evolution jumped from eon to eon,
the foundational hunger to remain
surpassed all bounds this great celestial
has ever witnessed in its cosmic disturbance.
How must Mars and Jupiter, these stars in the sky
view the deep blue that flooded the desolate,
a clump of collected debris basking in the ultraviolet,
unable to resist the presence of life, ever-so unwanted
and needless to exist? For our neighbors in the sky,
glancing our way in their soulless façade,
they gossip to their peers about the news over here,
the autumnal shift from emerald to bronze,
willows who wept in the heat of summer days,
dandelions dotting the ridges of a rolling hillside,
at times dipping their toes in the whispering waters
of a backyard creek caressing the moss
atop smooth and shimmering stones.
From nothing you surged as entropy evermore,
and from everything you share your entities,
the very body you call your own, the breath
you maintain in this cyclical palindrome;
as mere extensions of the singularity’s core,
you find yourself in this position of awe,
gazing at the consequences never meant to be seen.
How fortunate we are to find ourselves here
in a sea of tumultuous chaos, conscious and
ever-so present in the discovery of knowledge.
To look to the past through a tubular lens
and remain unknowing of time’s present state,
the physical probabilities of potentials unforeseen
bending the rays of time to juxtapose new and old;
reality remains a pervasive illusion
evading the grasps of human cognition. Our
consciousness supersedes the premise of us all,
but our curiosity quivers in the breath of the
meaningless; how could something so rare
and inconceivable surmount to nothing more
than the imminent emergence of an empty abyss?
We must never misjudge the reign of the cosmos,
lose all hope that nothing awaits --
this I will not believe.
From nothing I surged as entropy evermore,
and from everything I share my entities,
the very body I call my own, the breath
I maintain in this cyclical palindrome;
as mere extensions of the singularity’s core,
I find myself in this position of awe,
gazing at the consequences never meant to be seen.
Mar 6, 2024
Mar 6, 2024 at 3:22 AM UTC
With the Hebrew letters of MEM,
VAV, LAMED and SHIN, one finds
an inner meaning overlooked by
most people; it also condemns
those who are following Satan.
Although its primary influence
is a declaration of serenity
and peace, souls may be shaken-
as they learn about the prayer’s
prophetic nature; its numeric and
pictographic language contributes
another, sizable spiritual layer
to its foundational definition.
At its core, it translates to:
“Destroy all authority connected
with any chaos and confusion.”
Feb 25, 2017
Feb 25, 2017 at 1:10 PM UTC
The construction of new truths
requires tracing back to the roots
in which our foundational youth
has been grounded.
Pursuants of knowledge, belief, and perception
falter at the objection
that their reality is not subject to
interpretive conception.
Impermanence
taught me to learn and to shift
with tides of my blind eye's misconceptions.
Mar 18, 2014
Mar 18, 2014 at 9:08 PM UTC
i've got an iron plate
covered in a definitely liquid fate
behind a spherical unlocked gate
popped open to peek not too late
to see the life that awaits
i've got a trigger happy brain
a kid who complains
an old man who does not remember his name
a star with no fame
honestly lame claims
i've got a bed made of rocks
rooms with walls that talk
premonitions and assumptions that stalk,
gawk, walk and smock
the fantasy ship that never returns home to dock
i've got pairs of no color
foundational pillars that shudder
magnets that reject one another
though positive the father, mother or brother
no force could make them huggers
i've got a memory of the future
and vacant sheets that still stir
lonely animals that still pur
on the backs of women as fine fur
not ever damning the fact they could not also skin her
i've got a bomb with no fuse
useless skillful attributes
an unreachable noose
somewhere near that train with no caboose
a newspaper that never bore news
i've got an inner psychotic earthquake
erupting, held together with paper weights
silent clocks melting against time and space
warped beyond conceivable replace
and a pace set for waste producing smells of unimaginable distaste
i've got millions of appointments
pimples and hemorrhoids needing ointments
osteoporosis making a spine bent
an empty bank due to money lent
an obsession over time never spent
i've got a dangerous urge
to lick a dish for the surge
that stripped the bull of its courage
cracked knees creating pains that gurge
pleading relief from the thaumaturge
i've got a cat with ferocity
only defeated by that curiosity
covered in gems to disguise its true atrocity
that wished it could refer to itself anonymously
but sporting a name that claimed it was descriptive of me
i've got a handful of severity
motions that want sincerity
an over cast of side effects promising what i could be
eyes dialed in, foggy and stripped of clarity
in the mirror its no longer human that i see
Dec 26, 2012
Dec 26, 2012 at 11:20 PM UTC
Seeing..Y.O.U
HERE AGAIN.. COMES YOU..
I keep..
Minding my own business.
in the kitchen doin the dishes..
minding my own business..
keep trying ta forget..
Not wanting to digress..
To where I feel your absence and my loneliness.
Seeing your conditions..
Reminded in my visions
I see your hands through my own hands.
I remember the simpliest things..
Even though your absent finally from my dreams.
I've been seeing you even down to the basics of you.
The unstraight lazy walk the deep sound in how you talk.
I'm still minding my own business I must confess.
I'm a little wounded yet healing.. Coping well with my feelings.
Missing those interpersonal roles.. naughty ways to console.
So old and foundational..
With you so long that our chatting.
It used to get kinda confrontational.
So close I don't think you ever truly knew.
The closeness now makes me blue.
But right now i'm just kinda tired of spiritually seeing..Y.O.U!
Y..ooo..U.
SelinaSharday..2018_09 .S.A.M
Sep 9, 2018
Sep 9, 2018 at 7:31 PM UTC
What thoughts most admirable to take the emotional avenue to create to see in your mind a one of a
Kind person get the soul right and then move to the exterior that which would be seen and interacted
With for a life time what an undertaking but what else could make such sparks and the tremendous
Emotional swell to go to this place stand before the quietest shimmering possibilities a personality like
No other accepting the fact there would be common traits that everyone has but this is special this is
Horrendous in the idea no tolerance for error can exist this new person with functionality of will and
Freedom to express it demands nothing less so lies social justice and order then the operation of
Communicating what extreme place of awe you have to stand at to attempt this feat the tone the
Measure it will exact in the human drama of life seemingly simple but genius throughout in form and
Substance a constant flow that was the sum total of exquisite harnessed displayed in ordinary you need
To think on these matters when negatives penetrate the operational defense they should die as you
Contemplate how marvelously and wonderfully you are made your being passes the greatest minds and
Achievements our language is beset and besieged for a temporary time so the best we offer is listen
Here buster but behind that there is an imprisoned intellect that is now subject to the winding and trifle
Terms of existence but in those confines what beauty what treasure is hinted at the suppressed holds
Such revered qualities if we could get this psychiatry would be reduced greatly what a storehouse you
Are every need in human existence is there every fixation has deep roots foundational bedrock you
Were mined in a divine realm your feet are weighted to earth but over riding this is spirit that can’t be
Held completely to the functions of the body what immortal springs call to you as you have a thirst for
Them nothing else will satisfy why else is there such unexplained anxiety the Psychiatrist can’t give this
Answer because they follow the same path that is ignorance that parades as intelligent comprehensive
Analysis which you can plainly judge as ineffective and man trying to answer spiritual complexity with
Limited understanding I guess it is hard to unravel the statement that we are all fearfully and
Wonderfully made this writing comes from me looking at your picture truth truly will set you free
Oct 17, 2012
Oct 17, 2012 at 11:33 PM UTC
To say I'm excited about going to college is like saying Godzilla is big - you don't get the complete picture - you don't see the buildings crumbling and civilians running for their lives. Leaving for college is one of those foundational moments in life...
My mind’s been racing, I’ve felt a disquieting anxiety and I realized what I’m experiencing is a new kind of sadness - a “delta” strain new in my experience.
In less than a week I‘m off to college and I can’t help knowing that things will never be the same. I’ll step out of this house or we’ll hug at the airport and somewhere in there - I’ll cross a line.
Will my childhood be over or is it my adolescence? I’m not sure.
Oh, God, should I hand in my key??
I can hardly let my mind linger on the subject of leaving - it’s as sensitive as a tooth - it’s radioactive.
The most fleeting or off-handed reference to leaving and my heart hammers, my throat clumps and the room transforms into a thrill ride that starts to slowly spin until the floor drops a bit like an elevator. 30 seconds of focusing on leaving and I’m a muckle of tears.
I’m mindlessly, Flamin' Doritos excited about college (the going to) but like a sacrifice, or a coin - there’s a cold, flip-side, almost death-like sadness (about leaving) happening too.
So far, I think I’ve masked the sadness, with the cat’s lazy poise and razzle-dazzle and I’m sure this feeling of loss is some sort of pre-home-sickness that will pass. Until then, I'm stoically trying to wear a big-girl skirt here.
Aug 12, 2021
Aug 12, 2021 at 1:12 PM UTC
grit like sand (take 2)
Sunday, August 22
they said of her...
damaged.broken.breakable.unfixable.
damned to be all that she feared
stuck in the wasting
they called her hope-less
she had hope before she grew
she carried it around at every turn of celebration
and in her heart she felt that cancer
knowing all to well the divison
a chamber for john and another for judas
judas walked behind her in shroud of darkness
knowing her all to well, keeping parts of her entrapped in all her vices
yet he sang songs of sweet melodies
his counterpart's room painted in the naked truth
layed wake to the quiet and the loud noises of her soul
in this room she found deep sorrow that was married to great joy
it was a foundational healing cloaking her body like a protective shield
here her body laid in the litter of broken dreams and empty nights
this room used to be a temple but now the remnants of a broken down home
a thing she once knew
Nov 26, 2012
Nov 26, 2012 at 7:22 PM UTC
The Edge of the future
The earth accelerates the turbulent speed ever crossing and obliterating moral lines already stressed
And under fire moral standards once foundational the bearing wall of society now honeycombed with
Convincing lies mixed with truth making truth formally a power house now just an easily overcome able
After thought always the tactical measure of the enemy put in a drop of truth first taste will be
Convincing the shallow frivolous never examine anything in depth the rush the very measure of mindless
Crass individuals just like the suspicious smell of a machine slightly burning but not obvious enough to
Get you to take action then the destruction complete our world already has the truth told of what will
Be its end and yet knowing this we charge in filling in the blank spaces instead of slowing or delaying the
Disintegration this must be you have to disallow make inroads into the engine that roars at full speed
Spewing pollution and seismic change at the core of earths balance and equilibrium the word says that
The moon will wobble and the earth will stagger as a drunken man this is from evil tilting the balance at
That level but people take such a casual attitude about their conduct multiply that by the billons that
Inhabit this planet then you can see the problem those who practice evil are not able to be exempt from
It repercussions when an explosion occurs it center sends out ever widening circles of force in the case
Of evil these circles are the most disgusting contaminated lot of filth that sticks to everything and every
One gumming up destroying the smooth hum that did exist hiding holding out won’t work getting
Involved moving the darkness back breaking the line by giving freedom to one in this chain of human
Failure will cause light to do its constructive work no enemy long holds victory when his line is broken
And the wall once thought impregnable has been successfully breached take the dark half naked
Distraught free them entirely mind soul and body truth will make them free now fully clothed fed
Enriched with the bread of life and the new wine which is his own spirit night off set morning ushered in
a basking earth and smiling heaven is so far greater than the reality we now face.
Nov 24, 2011
Nov 24, 2011 at 3:29 PM UTC
On December 23, 2023,
I was pursuing my job,
As a Probationary Officer,
At the State Bank of India.
My colleagues and parents gathered,
It was very nice; what should I say?
For a vegetarian's delight showered,
They had gathered together that day.
In Panchkula, it was the F.T.P.—2, or
Foundational Training Program 2,
All the probationers were there,
Where, in SBILD, Panchkula.
Celebrated my birthday a bit late,
For I reached there on a later day,
Not that my arrival was delayed,
Que sera sera, just systemic delay.
'Twas memorable,
Many colleagues.
We broke the ice,
I made no couple.
I reached the age of 33 years that day,
Like this time I'll complete 34 years,
But I miss being a child, or a kid,
Those birthdays were special.
On my 33rd birth anniversary,
I felt more than a year younger.
Finally a successful professional,
And obviously an eligible bachelor.
Still unmarried, now as a choice,
I don't find a compatible voice,
Those judge me by my past,
My successes matter not.
Men Going Their Own Way,
MGTOW seems a good idea,
The only viable option for me,
Isn't that the only one for me?
All I have with me,
Are just memories,
Some are besotten,
Others a' forgotten.
They consider me depressed,
Maybe I'm just depressed,
But I lack any real friend,
Lacking any inspiration.
I may have achieved success,
Academic and professional,
Like Granger & McGonagall,
Scripted through dedication.
Coming out of the shadows,
Like the full moon out there,
My parents be proud of me,
Getting married isn't crucial.
Nov 4, 2024
Nov 4, 2024 at 11:52 AM UTC
You have only created what already is created
Even in your own individual thoughts, are those not your own threads of perception
you were created, but you didn't create yourself
I believe that our knowledge is given off of a foundational Creator
our mental data, given off from the original to you
like the strands of DNA, and how they have the same from their physical creator
But only less information is given and our limits come to being
that is what makes us who we are
what already is
what already was
or else, just give in to the idea that we are God
or that God is dead, perhaps never was alive
could we be formed from something like such?
Our source of life must come from life
Even in our sources of electricity, from that which is "not electricity"
you can still convert electricity from it
where electricity is found
energy cannot come from non energy
nor can life come from non life
however its synthesized, the pieces of consciousness must be found
Aug 16, 2015
Aug 16, 2015 at 12:39 AM UTC
Have you begun an exciting, new journey,
from stepping in a new direction of faith?
Have you found your way out of the wilderness?
Remember your covering of Christ’s righteousness.
For you’ve been given ample opportunities…
to find your identity within His Kingdom.
Have you figured out by logic and reason,
how to enjoy spiritual fruits of a new season?
The secret is to spend quality time with The Word
and feed your spirit with His foundational truths.
From encounter to encounter and glory to glory,
fulfill your role… within the Kingdom’s story.
Know that the supernatural realm can be revealed,
once your life with Christ has been fully sealed.
.
.
.
Author Notes:
Loosely based on:
Matt 6:33; Heb 3:7-8; Psa 32:2; Acts 6:4; Rom 10:17;
2 Tim 3:16; Phil 1:6; Eph 1:11-14
Learn more about me and my poetry at:
http://www.squidoo.com/book-isbn-1419650513/
By Joseph J. Breunig 3rd, © 2013, All rights reserved.
Dec 26, 2013
Dec 26, 2013 at 11:57 AM UTC
made,
can’t seem to get that grasp,
of the continuity needed,
the
regular maintenance schedule
good loving
requires
oh hell, part lazy, the origin of most of-my
manifest manifold
m a s c u l i n e mistakes, permitting
a dario daily “i love you” to get rust covered
by routinization, poor pronouns and missy pronunciation.,
forgetting that
we us and ours
are the foundational
cornerstones of the best love theorems
that were poetic uncovered in Ancient Persia,
or were writ in sanskrit
certainly borrowed by the Bard,
and will this
not be numbered in their
midst
gonna reread some Hafiz tonight
when she asks what do you want
to watch tonight, and maybe if
I am feeling gracious I will reannoint
myself a Reader
as well as a
writer of only love poetry
meanwhile accept this scrap as a sacrificial
offering, to be a burnt offering, consumed
entirely after just one reading
with luck
I will be posting
of flood conditions
tonight
a bio hazard
to be relished
or in the guy
parlance
oh yeah!
Aug 5, 2024
Aug 5, 2024 at 3:11 PM UTC
you told me that I resembled the battered, cracked baseboard
that ran along your concrete room
clearly suffering years of irrational abuse, and torment,
a foundational error maybe,
and chipped paint.
i can't say that I disagree.
but i can tell you that me and this baseboard share a lot in common
you see we both started out with a simple purpose,
sit still and do our job.
granted, my foundational friend had it slightly easier,
but only due to the that fact that you only kicked the baseboard accidentally;
in a drunken stumble or a game of indoor soccer.
I, on the other hand, was bruised and chipped away on purpose.
whether i said the wrong thing, or laughed too long, or wore the dress that you didn't like--
as if it mattered
you rattled my mangled bones with your lion heart and wanton ways,
my lips, red raw and quivering
you shook away any doubt of my worth
and smiled at the inflicted galaxies on my skin
you always saw yourself as a god
you watched the rustic liquid trickle down my thighs
from your own incisions
on my already scarred hips
and I almost felt beautiful
you ripped apart my innocence
and drowned out my screams with bad music with nasally singer and repetitive melodies
I thought I at least deserved better than ****** music
despite your absence I still sit
in concrete rooms
with cracked baseboards
and caving ceilings
because that's where I feel at home
among the broken and the abandoned,
among the walls that soaked up as many terror stories as me
among irreparable damage
and oddly enough i want to thank you
because now i have a home
within the vacancy
May 5, 2015
May 5, 2015 at 9:59 PM UTC
My mind’s like rock but lava,
Ice but calving,
A mountain in avalanche,
Dreaming of insomnia,
A lion being hunted,
A man in the news.
Quickly removed from vital values,
No longer known for strongest qualities.
Easily swayed by a metaphorical gust of wind.
Reduced but mistaken by foundational niceties.
Dec 8, 2019
Dec 8, 2019 at 2:07 PM UTC
All this war and yet, there is nothing I would rather be.
I have grown to appreciate,
as a nonpartisan–
a silent sommelier–
the subtle earthy notes of irony with which
my deflated ego scolds my hollow spine.
I know my own hypocrisy, my instability, my naivete.
I have been raised in the midst of myself–
I carved and nailed these philosophies together to make trellises
around which my elastic grapevine limbs have learned
to wrap and coil and hoist themselves toward the sun.
I have built myself,
and I, alone, tend to my vineyard.
There are distortions in these wooden lattices,
and there are seasons when the grapes grow sour
or the vines do not flower
at all,
but the crop is resilient and the wood does not break,
and there is enough sunshine here
in the summertime to sustain
and to yield something complexly beautiful because it has been weak,
and it has known the cold.
I have built myself,
and I, alone, tend to my vineyard.
There are plots of land far more fertile than this one,
foundational structures far sturdier and more symmetrical,
grapes far sweeter and more robust of flavor,
but there is no wine I would rather have flood my veins;
there is nothing I would rather be.
Oct 8, 2020
Oct 8, 2020 at 1:24 AM UTC
Never Alone
It has always been to show your open palms was a sign of peace how much we need it today when there
Is such cruel and destructive behavior and there is another instance of the palms having special meaning
It always been the bane of human kind as they say you could be in a large crowd and still be quiet alone
In fact the theme of this piece will talk about our very existence comes from the fact we were made
Because God was lonely so from empty longing and resident power that could do something about his
Reality he knelt down and from the basic of material he created and started the great wave of human
Kind as can be expected He would know what would continue to trouble and haunt his great work so he
Included this in His word a bedrock foundational statement firstly never will I leave you alone secondly I
Have engraved you on my palms and your walls will always be before me so in all that makes up the
World at in the best there is at times great chaos but with the wind of trouble at a fever pitch stop and
Look and see where you are your place is tucked away in the mightiest fortress of all in the very palms of
God silence the voice that says I am alone unknown and unloved the headwaters where any and all love
Originates has you personally fixed he that cannot die or lie has you bound to him if your mother would
Forget you He says I will take you up you are mine no one can take you from me only you can break this
Unending boundless love we were giving a mind use it as it should be defensively in times of isolation
Bring to bear reason the gateway into the kingdom that is not of this world and does not pass away you
Mean everything to Him you were bought with a great price let yourself be carried away by this mighty
Swell bound on the wings of love there isn’t anything you can’t surmount even death holds no fear for
You it is just a step from limitation to boundless infinity founded on the pure foundation of love that is
Endless
Jan 9, 2012
Jan 9, 2012 at 6:47 PM UTC
In the end all you have is family,
And I don't want any of this
Because this family doesn't know how to be one
And it doesn't know how to love or resist
Biting comments and surpassing our
Elders in what they didn't know-
That somehow 20 years later,
This family tree will cease to grow.
Surely I'll have children,
If I can be what I should for them,
But even if I have a daughter or a son,
The tree will still cease to grow again.
The tree died from the chill of your cold remarks
And lack of root in this home.
The tree stood now chance when we branched out,
The tree lost it's leaves and stood alone,
Like myself,
Away from the blood ties and similarities.
Sure, we share a last name,
But we can't share our insecurities.
We can't share our concerns or woes
In fear of being belittled or demeaned.
We can't share a **** dinner at a table
With somehow being scathing and mean.
We can't share a laugh
Because we are too busy tiptoeing
Around in fear of stepping on a foundational crack
That'll never stop growing
Until we learn that family really is all you have,
And could be all you need.
Until then though,
Each of us will leave.
The house will grow colder,
And no lights can illuminate this dark
That grew between us all,
And set us all apart.
I wouldn't surprise me if
I leave and don't come home,
Because home isn't a place but a feeling,
And this is where I feel colder than stone .
Someday I may have kids,
And they'll ask about you all.
I fear all I'll have for them
Is a telephone call
Because grandma will be in the city,
And grandpa will have an apartment alone,
The uncles will be far gone,
And none of us will ever know our way back home.
Dec 1, 2014
Dec 1, 2014 at 5:53 PM UTC