This is me,
trying to save
my curiosity.
Not to grow so bold
that I might know,
and never wonder what could be.
Growing old,
and so often alone,
plays upon our dismal nature.
We don’t see
the wonder that precedes
and possesses us in our favor.
Lost inside
a prison I’ve devised.
Imagining a pleasant stranger,
comes to me,
holding out a key
and I go from my jailer
to my savior.
We’re all inside a dream,
so why would we wait
to do all of these
impossible things?
Do them now.
Raise your voice and shout.
Fly on angel’s wings.
Be everything
you’ve ever wanted.
This is me,
praying for
some clarity.
To see my way
through the day’s melee,
without getting engaged.
I just need
a placed to stay.
Somewhere safe
for my mind to wander.
I’ll create
an escape
from this world,
torn asunder.
Let me dream
before I wake.
Don’t let me die
without imagining;
what we are,
who I am,
what this world is.
This is me,
dying curious.
HG – 2019
