Listen as the wind blows through our metal box in the sky. It speaks of the past & reminds me of ball games with trees. How many did we misplace? "The pine cones have some company," we said, and we lifted the thought away. "Let's play! Let's play!" Other houses danced with us. What a league we were. A league of four we'd say. "I am Omar," I said, "and you can be Jim."
Listen again to the wind blowing, through our floating shell. It whispers, "It is now." Such a bitter truth. There are no trees where I am at, or pine cones for you. Only shirts with ties, and guns, and no one dances. For we are not Omar or Jim. We have our slave names, because that is what responsibility is.
How can I speak of a resolution I do not know? It is simply life's way. One day, we play ball with trees, and then the trees become buildings. And the ball become personal agenda. Then, there is no such thing as the greater good. For there is only greed, and shirts with ties, and guns with bullets. And our names are changed again, to power, lust, hate and vengeance.
This is growing up.
Growing Up
Posted by Andrew Lloyd Thursday, May 7, 2009 at 8:16 AM
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May 8, 2009 at 9:28 AM
On the train, the country side whirred by in a flash of green. The ground whirred by in a blur of grey. The sky whirred by in an smudge of blue. That is what life is, isn’t it? It’s a palette with only three colors, starting so vibrant, so promising. And we muddle them, we blend them, we mix them, we mingle them. So original, we are. So poignant, our creations are. One day they will hang in empty halls, protected by lasers and security cameras and panes of glass. But today, there are no lasers. No security cameras will alert the authorities if someone comes too near. No panes of glass encapsulate our fragile hearts. We mix and muddle our lives, we blend and mingle our days, hoping that the end result will be worthwhile. All that comes out is a palette no longer vibrant, no longer promising. Our lives disintegrate into the colors of the sea. Green and grey and blue stretch out endlessly.
This is growing up.
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