god takes care of himself

I can not be a young man
I can not be a man
I am a phantom
a shadow
the dark version of what I was
what I could be
the interactions don't happen
I can't speak
I can not see
every thing is sealed
in an envelope
dropped off to nowhere
I am a sponge
an alcohol sponge
I drink
and disappear
instead of expand
I am lost
one of the so lost
the change happened
without asking me
the bombs
the bullets
the screams
the sirens
and now
the dreams
followed, hollowed, scared
and alone
falling apart
sewing the holes
enough with the banter
the miniscule things
enough with the never
never ending
plow some other field
burden some other seed
the plant you raised
to grow up strong
isn't strong enough to feed

1 comment:

  1. God...Who is in irony matchless and in wanton malice, beyond measure!