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 

 

But

 

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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