the fragile flower of my youth
was destroyed in the fire to consume my imperfection
i am not under the impression that I am whole
or less than so
its a foolish man who turns from the right road
he has found
something worth burning
will purchase you a warm night
I doodle in my brain, I write in the sand of my brain. I was thinking about this today, because the house I proposed to my wife in was uprooted and ground to bits by machinery. We don’t have a lot from those early days; no friends (just family) from those days. I am retrospective by nature. I appreciate where I am, and if I feel depressed, it is only because I realize I have so much more to do before I am done. I brought my son home to that home, I started my new life there.
They tore the house down, it was never really mine, and I lived there for such a short time, but it was where it all began, and I started to get teary eyed as we drove away from the place, just thinking about what it meant, and what happened there. You don’t know what it meant; you weren’t there, you will have your own experiences, or have had them.