I'll sleep a thousand summers
Past the brave winter, to the frigid north In desolate absence of the southern wind In this small town where the rain never ceases And the windows on the houses are still always open Where there are holes in every wall With nothing more than sheets to shelter their cold toes I've found a home here among the refugees We're all so happy with our creator's hatred We point our fingers to the sky and say rain We look upon the ground and proclaim stone We run to the river and yell flood We grip to the trees and whisper willow For all we know is sadness All we have ever known is this town And though the economy is stable There is little to export and new immigrants enter daily A small girl walks and places her muddied hand Upon the walls of the town hall Spelling her late mother's name upon the only white building Still left in town The rain beats down and washes clean her hands But the name remains Immortalizing itself in the town's history Slowly we all walk to see the name And subsequently write one of our own The walls begin to grow dirtier And dirtier Soon the building is filthy And not a spot of cleanliness can be found It comes to the point where I look around this town that I call home And I stare at all the blackened buildings And I wonder how many names are written there? I wonder how many people look at these homes And see nothing but terrible memories and pain? Those who see all the lost friends and family members within them Those for whom love was written on the doors and in the hinges And now these homes are bitter memories Tainted reminders of happier times I wish the rain would find a way to wash clean the stains I wish the rain would find a way to wash clean the stains on me But every house I see in this town I can't forget I can't forget all the happy times now gone And all that is present is the rain The rain as it soaks into the walkways of town As it blocks the sunlight from our lives I just want to see the sunlight I just want to see the sunlight as it shone in older times Back when life was better Back when the walls were white with purity When we closed our windows to block the southern wind And had doors instead of holes in the sidings I want to see the sunlight as it shone on the sycamores Before they all slouched in somber remembrance Of what this town used to mean to its denizens And along with the trees, in turn followed the inhabitants Until what you see is our home As it is now As we all are now
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Author"Anything I can not transform into something marvelous, I let go. Reality doesn't impress me. I only believe in intoxication, in ecstasy, and when ordinary life shackles me, I escape, one way or another. No more walls." - Anais Nin Archives
February 2023
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