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The Winding Down

By RDFollendoreIII

Copyright (c) 2002 by RDFollendoreIII



I woke.

But I did not wake at once.

I thought it was to live in the arms of my lover.

But the child that I was had slept far too long to wake now.

My childhood had disappeared within seasons that were not celebrated.

I was not able to see those lights of that glorious future that I had been taught to expect.

The sea eagle that once rose over my nursery has long ago turned into the dust of my dreams.

I have emerged from the cocoon of all of those unsaid things that were and were not expected of me.

My stomach was still too full of stolen pride and too unhappy to speak openly about my relentless feelings.

Those unseen aliens who want to  listen now do not seem to care and those who do not care do not listen.

I have found myself rocking myself alone, the silent witness to this empty place that was once a home.

I offered skills and dreams that are not wanted and I feel like the fool that others have said I am.

These same others who once called me the wonderful genius to my face abandoned me.

Now the empty space that exists between my mind and my soul has become eternal.

I am not where I knew I was meant to be, though this is where I find myself.

The hot burned out embers have terminated the ends of my creativity.

I have pushed my deepest thoughts into that either to no avail.

My bones of condolences are the strangers who listen.

Their audience keeps my ego from starvation.

For some I have become a liberal poison.

But I am not their personal strategy.

To others I became their expectation.

But neither am I their personal salvation.

They speak of gifts that my grief has brought.

My dark failings feel lighter for their earnest concerns.

I never knew their dead Mothers but I have found that I care.

I do not know if I can go there without opening my eyes to destruction.

This game that I have always been playing is like childhood musical chairs.

Those red, white and blue plastic chairs are empty and made of honor and trust.

When the dark music stops we all must begin to reach to take our seats but one.

I have always been left standing alone to sound because I was that odd deaf child.

My mind never seemed to recognize that expectant moment when the music ended.

I am left standing alone because I am that odd stranger that did not belong.

I have been that expendable one who did not quite fit to that music.

My childhood has become dust because of the tone.

I have become what was to be my fate.

I feel I am lost to that silence.

I have become old. 

I am the winding down.





Copyright (c) 2001-2007 RDFollendoreIII All Rights Reserved