Saudade

A child’s fingertips

On weighted keys of ivory

(the) bittersweet sound resonates

(with) my (the) inner child (which) contemplates

Why

Each note unearths a void

(hidden) within a childhood which evades my recollection

Frustration crashes and floods into each vacant space

Yearning for (a) memory of a safe place

Unobtainable from where I sit

Each note surfaces a hit

A strike

An absence

Of something I know exists

Because my eyes observe it

Rushed into adulthood without a trace

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Security

Cocooned in structure

So fragile

Prone to rupture

Your sense of entitlement remains solid

Embedded like the foundations of your home

Permanent as the tangible entities

 Appease

Your self-proclaimed success

Why do we crave security?

Does summer not follow spring each year?

We cocoon ourselves in structure

Complex

Therefore, fragile

Unforgivingly prone to rupture

Restrictive routines ripped at the seams

No entitlement with which to lean on

Once stripped bare

Of self-constructed layers upon layer

We are as vulnerable

And as free as we dare

11th Bedroom

A bookshelf filled with knowledge

Supporting a globe, silver and grey

Replica

So saturated in life

Condensed into a sphere

With all shades of grey and silver

Borders divide river

Forest and marshland

Hands

Of families who reside

On arid land masses

Whose ancestors sung proud in an archaic tongue

Unknown to the ear of the present day young

Books beneath the globe

Tell all that was omitted

All that was permitted

By mortals

Who thrived on the same terrain

Who once felt they had something to gain

Entitled to a purpose

Position of power

The smaller person in all but the physical sense

Carry your shame on your slouching shoulders

Which stoop lower as your sins manifest

Into your movements and thoughts

Into your nightmares and into your chest

Drink them down like the liquor in your glass

Unjustifiable

You cannot give back a childhood

Or resurrect how a loving home once stood

Though, once you know this truly

She will be stronger than you ever were

A woman now, she cries no longer

So, stoop low with your guilt glazed eyes

Continue being disenchanted

With your mediocre life

Understand you are the only person

Paralyzed by guilt

I am scarred but I am content

Something you will never be

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