I was a soldier
I was a soldier
I never fought
I watched someone die though
Who?
My younger self
it was so sad…
so... unexpected…
To be Kings with Crowns on the Floor
PART ONE Letting go is the easy action Reaching for a grip is hardest The words belonged to my mind that day Under the masculine sky So masculine it would not bow to even Juliet Nor any other heroine so fragile and able I stood beneath it a new knowledge Disturbing what had been my former self Previously I was perverted enough To race from keyhole to keyhole And spy on life Like an insect buzzing criticising and relaxing Though always chaste Perverted I may have been But forever I was chaste I would be chaste enough to never open a door and enter For entering would mean intrusion which would lead to introduction Introduction into a world In which one has the boast of already spying into The situation is not a comfortable one It would be best if the Sky remained as the sky Never the ground This day the sky was broad, heavy Thick with bawdy masculinity Drunk with its own weight Wanting desperately to fall and become the ground As desperately as humanity is stupid Though it is our nature ...
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