My Room

The ball falls from the wall.

The distance is tall,

but the time is small.

I bounce.

I run and play,

so gay and free is a child’s mind!

So pure, untouched by wine,

still capable of thoughts divine,

I wait for a sign.

I wait and in the waiting I train, use the pain.

Gain knowledge and apply it to actions.

Understand fractions.

Eat green food.

Try and be in a good mood,

and if you can’t then rant, but do it over there.

We promise not to stare.

Here take this chair.

We don’t want to hear you moan.

The goal of life is not to groan.

This idea set the tone.

I am alone.

 

Candy painted window sill.

Just be still.

The wind does not obey,

curtains continue to sway.

I play,

but it is brisk in the house.

Last night father killed a mouse.

Or was it the cat?

I saw a movie where one had a hat.

That had been an amusing story,

but the second time through was boring.

Even mom was snoring.

She denies it.

Dad sleeps downstairs because he snores.

Mommy really hates whores.

They are both fond of closed doors.

If they talk I’m supposed to listen but it’s not an invitation.

I am only allowed inhalation.

Exhaling reveals my ignorance.

For instance,

what is a whore?

Also, what’s at the planet’s core?

Context is dangerous but I want more.

When we go to the store,

I never know what to buy.

I am given things to try,

indecision they ask my why.

I can’t say.

I lose the things I won’t wear,

somewhere out there,

on the play yard.

Run hard.

Get scarred.

They say I should care more about my things,

yet I am the one to find their rings.

My favorite game is hide and seek,

but I only like to hide.

Those who seek are weak.

They can only look for what they desire.

Aim higher.

They taught me how to build a fire.

Kindling, wood and plenty of air.

Hot air is best, the kind you get from venting.

The new house is one we’re renting.

My room is bigger than before.

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