For The Kids

Posted on Jan 5, 2007 by jason

I keep the ache in my heart disguised in smiles and covered in pride. No one dare see it in truth’s light. Dressed in cloth both tender and weak, insecurity hides away that part of me that stands raw and naked before life’s trepidation.

Analyzing the rebel within remains the purview of secrecy. I am scared and unsure, and so I must cloak reality with dark’s blankets and lie’s honesties. With tired head and soar heart, I defy veracity and offer a sacrifice of falsehood and dramatic presentation.

Peeled to the core stands my soul. I feel so insecure. The ravages of time sweep inward from places alien and denied, cold hands reaching ever further into places I cannot protect toward things I dare not touch.

My peace rests swallowed in fear. The moneychangers beckon for tithes not available lest I find myself lacking, and those owed cry for want of more. And still there exists the needs. I cannot fathom meeting them anymore, these strangers to whom so much must be paid yet from whom so little can be expected.

Too long have I stood without, both lacking and external. No more can I offer. Those within must need more than I have to give, yet give I will lest my soul perish for denying them what they are wont to receive. And what they deserve.

Nary a fortnight rests between a sum of zero and this place, but two yet from here to homelessness. What shall be done?

Of pain and death do ears hear, of need by those closest. I beat upon my breast the lashes of anguish for lacking that which others need, and what I need. So here upon the ledge of cliffs deadly and dangerous do I stand, here where skeletons dance morbid minuets celebrating what cannot be.

My eyes remain filled with the predator’s pirouette gliding effortlessly above, ever closer, ever closing the distance between us. Where time stands still lives hope’s embrace. Can I reach it before the grasp of emptiness reaches me?

Silence resigned in sublime sorrow is what I have to give. No more and no less. Why am I not where I want to be? Where I need to be? I only think I stand free. Slave to hearth and city life, begging for another way to go, another path to follow, and I stand alone.

Obliged to care and bound to serve, I cannot die upon civilization’s altars without providing. But for them, everything.