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fractal007
Senior Member

since 2000-06-01

Posts 1958

0 posted 2009-01-01 09:24 PM

  Sometimes when I sit in here
    at night and look at these
       sheets and flat remnants
cold faces guys I never knew
                            family I never had
        I wonder if I could
        get along with that
        old man blowing out
        candles or that boy
        in his lap smiling.
I'm dying                   All I
        got now is a few batteries
    and wires I could scrounge up
     to make this recorder work so you
                                can hear me
                           be a part of the rehab
recovering happiness we didn't have
        I want to live in
        those nice houses
        where coffee's on
        in the morning and
        mom and dad are smiling
I'm dying                   All I
        got now is this shed that
    wasn't mine, filled with junk
      that I turn to gold as soon as I
                                look at it
                            that crumbles

as                   soon
     as
                                          I
               touch
it

Life's short. Think hard!
Me!

Mysteria

Member Laureate

since 2001-03-07

Posts 18328
British Columbia, Canada

1 posted 2009-01-01 09:52 PM

quote:
so you
                                can hear me
                           be a part of the rehab
recovering happiness we didn't have
        I want to live in
        those nice houses
        where coffee's on
        in the morning and
        mom and dad are smiling

You know I could have written these exact words at your age. I still sit around even now wondering why my parents even had me. However, it is what you make of your own life regardless of those around you that counts in the end I have found. Only in that process is there a path to happiness.

Really enjoyed your poem. Well done!

JenniferMaxwell

Member Elite

since 2006-09-14

Posts 2423

2 posted 2009-01-01 11:14 PM

Read an interesting line, think it was by Victor Infante, not sure, but anyway it said something like, "Freedom is forgetting". Been thinking about that a lot.
Very powerful, moving and well written poem, Kevin.

fractal007
Senior Member

since 2000-06-01

Posts 1958

3 posted 2010-01-17 01:54 PM

hehe
Guys this isn't about my family. Actually it's someone in a post-apocalyptic world stumbling on a photo album in an abandoned shed. He wonders what it might have been like to live in a family before the catastrophe.

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