Thursday, November 20
terminal
I used to have little insightful hopes.
An inkling that the weird and wonderful images in my head
would someday soon be realized.
But I have a knack for letting opportunities slip by.
Chance after chance after chance;
A never ending archive choked full of new beginnings...
It's been going on for years and now I'm old.
Remember those moments, when you were younger?
Way back when, fooling around with your lego blocks,
wrecking your matchbox cars on purpose
and creating some hybrid mutant toy monster out of the
synthetic ashes of broken mangled pieces of die cast metal and plastic,
that someday, you would be somebody.
Do something great like killing alien monsters the size of a skyscraper,
pilot a giant robot, ridding the earth of pollution in green hair and red-and-white tights, learning martial arts from a mutant rat while living in the sewers and eating pizza... Oh the possibilities!
But we all know our technicolored inspired aspirations don't last for long.
We grow up, discover the reality of making the grade in school,
and the importance of being cool;
Pretty soon the hormones kick in,
and that's when the troubles start pouring in.
Years pass, and the lines grow thick on our faces,
this tired body, now more or less fully formed;
moulded by life on the drink, pills, dope, smoke, late, late nights...
Within this seemingly effervescent exterior,
what secrets lie hid?
behind this smile...
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1 comment:
is this what they call "growing up"?
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