Sunday, May 17

Poem Eleven


I changed the tone of this poem. It was originally intended to be humorous, but it took on a new life...I guess...? What do you think? It's kinda rambly, no?



I work the nine to five job at a twelve to twelve pace,
Waiting tables at a busy intersection in the prime of my life.
I was doing the juggling act the other day
And that‘s when I saw you, the little boy that would change the world.
Boy to be superman, batman and Spiderman
Rolled into one cape crusader hidden under your blues clues t-shirt.


There you were, just sitting with your feet crossed over the chair
Curly black hair and copper eyes to see the world,
Cheeks kissed red by the vitality of sunshine,
You are a little son of God,
The savior of mankind,
No resurrection necessary, just add a pinch miracle grow and a dash of destiny.
I just knew that you, you would change the world from the moment I saw you.
Maybe.

I wanted so badly to see in your face where you would go,
What choices you would make, how many lips you would kiss, the hearts would break.
How many times would sneak out of your parents house?
How many days would you skip of your senior year of high school?

Oh, the things you would learn to appreciate---
Good music and eating too much on Sundays,
Summers with your best friends, and text-messaging.

Who would you become, little one?

A demi-god among men, champion of the marginalized,
Hero of the damned, the forgotten?
Golden child of chosen sun, would you spin magic with your mind
And mark the moon with a sling shot, guiding back starlight from the milky way?

Would you become a man?
The man we read in story books,
The man of principle.
The man we know and don't who works fourteen hours a day, seven days a week,
Silently struggling for his family,
Never complaining once of his burden,
All for you.

What would you choose?

It occurred to me that you could grow into just another man, no?
Silver tongued with slippery hands,
Trying to weasel your way into iron clad panties that aren’t as strong as they should be
Even though your mother taught you to respect your women.
Close yourself off and bury your heart deep into the ground where no one can find it
Because emotional connections are irrelevant to being a man, no?
Maybe she just wants you to hold her and tell her she’s beautiful.

Who would you become?
Just another father who neglects his kids,
Just another husband who raises his fists
Just another authoritarian who manipulates the system and
Fucks Corruption while Justice pretends we're all going to be just fine?


Dear little one, stay little longer. Just stay little longer.
Because growing into that man, is apparently, irreversible.

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