Untitled II
When you see someone you know,
Someone you love,
fall, you want nothing more than to help them up.
And most times you do, in various ways.
But the undeniable truth is that it gets harder as one gets older.
Everyone grows to miss the days in which it was so simple as to help this person to stand,
and straighten their bike,
and watch them ride away in the heat, strands of hair catching the golden summer.
But age,
Time,
does incredible things,
terrible things.
The days get colder and ripped stocking become ripped jeans
and crystal tears turn black when the teenage need to be perfect consumes.
And it is a little harder to mend a broken heart, than to disinfect a scraped knee.
And so you try, and maybe you succeed, but the scar will always be there,
Always taunt you,
Always remind you that they are not quite the person they were before,
Not tainted but changed.
And when their loved ones fall,
Brothers and sisters,
Guardians and the adults of youth
Friends and lovers,
A pint of fish food does much less than in the days of locker-room heartbreak
And the only way to help them up
becomes a need to fall beside them,
to wait out the days on your knees
in the hopes that when they are ready to stand,
you will be able to.
Because we give these people a piece of our hearts,
they take it into theirs.
And when their heart is damaged,
the pain is reflected in our own.
The forest can not flourish
If the stream does not dance.
And it is a lesson learned
That may fall upon deaf ears
As the next bicycle waits,
Chained to the cold bars of an
Old folks home, where the sun shines,
But brings little heat of the summers once remembered.
Someone you love,
fall, you want nothing more than to help them up.
And most times you do, in various ways.
But the undeniable truth is that it gets harder as one gets older.
Everyone grows to miss the days in which it was so simple as to help this person to stand,
and straighten their bike,
and watch them ride away in the heat, strands of hair catching the golden summer.
But age,
Time,
does incredible things,
terrible things.
The days get colder and ripped stocking become ripped jeans
and crystal tears turn black when the teenage need to be perfect consumes.
And it is a little harder to mend a broken heart, than to disinfect a scraped knee.
And so you try, and maybe you succeed, but the scar will always be there,
Always taunt you,
Always remind you that they are not quite the person they were before,
Not tainted but changed.
And when their loved ones fall,
Brothers and sisters,
Guardians and the adults of youth
Friends and lovers,
A pint of fish food does much less than in the days of locker-room heartbreak
And the only way to help them up
becomes a need to fall beside them,
to wait out the days on your knees
in the hopes that when they are ready to stand,
you will be able to.
Because we give these people a piece of our hearts,
they take it into theirs.
And when their heart is damaged,
the pain is reflected in our own.
The forest can not flourish
If the stream does not dance.
And it is a lesson learned
That may fall upon deaf ears
As the next bicycle waits,
Chained to the cold bars of an
Old folks home, where the sun shines,
But brings little heat of the summers once remembered.