When Everything Was New

​Thoughts will slide

Up and down

Much like a kid on

A playground for the first time


The exhilaration

Of the first swing 

Is second to none


And you just hope

To god that the

Second swing

Will be as good as the first 




Nor is the third


Or the fourth


It can never be


And that’s childhood.

The bliss of ignorance,

The blessing of innocence 


One moment it fills you up

The next, it dies

With all the knowledge

You possess


For the wind

Will bring along with itself

The scent of nostalgia

That you can taste so well


Upon the tip of your tongue


But like all bites

The taste, so sweet and so bitter

Dies in your mouth

Begging you for more


And second servings 

Are more expensive

Than you’re willing to pay


So sit there

And reminisce

About the times 

When everything was new


The war hasn’t started yet

Wait in the graveyard

Count the tombstones

Wait for the war


Wait to be thrown into

The trenches

Along with all those lost souls

And hold your fire


Until you can call out her name


And maybe

She’ll hear you through the crossfire

And maybe

She’ll feel the vibrations through her bones


So let the sun set

And wait for the smoke to clear

Cause in the end

You’re the one who has to live with yourself


Not your parents

Not your lover

Not your pets


You. You have to live

With the remnants

Of your being

At the end of this thing we call


Our existence. 


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