can your recall their names those people you called lifelong friends can you recall their face their voice the warmness of their touch oh it’s not a crime if you can’t but it’s a reminder you will be forgotten
been rooted in the broken promises of freedom for over two hundred years so it should be of no surprise that we have grown roughened in our views of the future and misshapen in our attitudes for hope and justice in this nation oh when we were young we could easily bend and not break when the winds of ignorance and hate forced us toward the ground then we would rebound and once again grasp at the sky but now days we refuse to bend nor do we have to we have an outside that has grown hardened and an inside having knotty memories of the pain of our lifetimes we have grown and survived like african mahogany
by just looking at it one might draw some negative conclusions for the case is well worn it’s wooden shell shows its age and how hard it’s been handled over the years some parts are tarnished resembling the color of gray hair other parts are dented and i doubt work anymore but when you look inside it still maintains its youthful beauty my old kaleidoscope
i am a fading portrait each friend’s death dims a part of who i am and each death within the family makes faint a portion of who i was soon i will have no eyes to see into tomorrow
an old school candy jar
one of a kind
filled with
the finest sweets
individually wrapped
like
they were
special moments in time
these days
they’re unavailable anywhere
so
it can’t be restocked
of course
when young
the jar seemed
immense
and
the candies
were
endless
grasping handfuls
didn’t seem to affect
the supply
but
over time
the jar began to look
depleted
slowing
the pace
of
consumption
didn’t seem to slow
the rate
of
depletion
it’s obvious
now
the jar
will soon be empty
like
life
pages full of broken words some never spoken others discarded as foolish dreams some secrets have been pressed like roses between the pages left there to dry and die never to be read by anyone mere remnants of what could have been or should have been but never became there are some words even if found lying around would be seen like the scribblings of a child who never learned to color within the lines a maverick of society whose offerings of words without question shall be ignored
sounds of night traffic pulsing along urban roads have replaced warm laughter over dinner debates debates on everything but not on what defines friendship that was known and required no amendments to what constituted why we loved one another but now an emptiness a fading out into the arid landscape of time where a grave stands unattended for all those who cared are gone so this grave bearing my name will be drought-stricken no tears from those i loved