Past

You know the rainbow is fading when you
Tear away from the embrace of the cute mouse
And you find an excuse to kill the sorcerer
And you coop up at home cowering of the sun

You know the mountains await when your
Little country path becomes winding
And your forty winks become zero
And your toys are suffocating in the closet.

You know that Something is dying when your
Pencil and paper become stationery
And you wish to be a rich businessman
And you no longer hold hands with the ones you love.

And you cry.

You know by heart
That sight, of broken wings.
That sound, of trampling of dreams.
That smell, of charred remains of childhood.
That touch, of the cold morning air that whips your face.

That taste, that bittersweet feeling.

 

Tags: childhood, dreams, literature, mountains, mouse, poem, poems, poetry, poetry writing, poets corner, writing