| View Blog
|
|
|
|
| to pick up shattered pieces of me |
an indian summer
deep in the heart of texas,
tyler—
home where my daddy was born
sitting on some old woman’s porch
I remember yesteryears
and sad realities
that dropped by unannounced
and departed on a whim
without warning
they ask,
“what’s wrong?”
but if I told the truth
no one would understand
so instead we sit
chop it up
to meaningless conversation
over a warm plate of cornbread, black eye peas
and greens
I stand steady
watching through the back door
scared that
the rain might pour
atop my head and melt me away
“you’re still here?”
they ask.
I nod. I shrug.
too broken to fly
too fed up
to be sad
too let down
to be mad
I nod. I shrug.
I am still here, I
hurry up and wait
for tomorrow may never
reveal my fate
a safe haven
I long for
out there
somewhere hidden
in the neck of the brisk woods
with tall, thin trees
debris
and my reflection
in broken glass
spread along an endless country road
folks in my town
point and giggle
when I pass
‘cause livin’ has taken my voice
locked it up in a case
buried it deep in a place
where no living creature can reach
not even me—
“will you ever come back?”
they ask.
I nod. I shrug.
they laugh
|
|
Posted by TAONeal on 2008-10-29 02:35:09 | Rating: | Views: 432
|
|
| |
|
|
Email This to a Friend 