There’s this one thing
I can’t seem to do,
That’s stop looking down at
Those too white shoes.
They didn’t quite fit
On some other guy’s feet,
And were given to me
‘Cause they’re something I need.
They’re a real brand name
And look strange I suppose,
When worn with my thrift shop
And bargain store clothes.
They’re not really me
And it looks and it feels,
Like someone else’s feet
Have been attached to my heels.
Out of place they may be
But they’ll just have to do,
And I’ll make my way out
In those too white shoes.
What a wonderful feeling,
To have woken up late,
on such a bright new day.
To have shrugged off, for just this once,
The unreasonable demands of the clock,
And silence its scream for attention.
Having nowhere particular to be,
And no need to bend to the whims,
Of an all too practical world.
To taste your coffee once,
Then let it just cool a moment,
Before the next lazy sip.
To sit and just simply enjoy,
Even for a short time,
The warmth of wanton idleness.
Oh such glorious mornings,
You will never know
How much you are missed.
I never meant to fall asleep,
Before my work was done.
I felt so weary,
I just laid my head down,
Only for a bit.
The room was cold,
I draped the blanket about me.
My eyes burned,
My head throbbed,
I drew down the blind.
I dozed for that perfect moment,
In the warmth,
Soft and dark.
I dreamt of abundance,
A world of peace.
You threw the blinds open,
I was awake once again.
Jagged rays of midday declared,
Here still is toil,
A place full of strife.
I never meant to dream,
Before our work was done.
Sometimes I look back to those days,
Back to golden years not so very long ago.
When we were each kings and queens,
Our younger days before our troubles.
When we were free and unhindered,
Unshackled by the thought of consequence.
When Our faults did not matter,
Our mistakes weren’t so permanent.
Before a future to dread or a past to regret,
Only now to squander as we saw fit.
Those warm days when we still felt things deeply,
When we still loved recklessly.
Those delicious days when we were kings and queens,
When we did all else but mourn.
As I walked along the sidewalk I saw the flower,
a volunteer growing up through a crack.
It looked upward in defiance,
refusing to wither and give in.
Stem awkwardly long and twisted,
pale leaves outstretched straining for the sun.
Its petals bruised by a thousand footsteps,
stained and choked by exhaust.
Forced to thrive in unpleasantness,
just because of the way the wind had blown.
Image Credit: Flower in a sidewalk crack by Fuzzy Gerdes via flikr CC BY 2.0
I am glad we had this little talk, that we cleared this up.
It’s good you finally see it.
I am not the person you lost, or the one you’re looking for.
I am not going to change. I am simply not interested in doing so.
I don’t think it is possible, not like that.
Over the years I may have grown, and learned new things about myself.Still, I am always the same in my core.
People are who they are, it’s in our nature.
I am glad we had this little talk, that we agree to part ways
Image: He is leaving by Hartwig HKD (CC BY-2.0)