PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

He no longer names the cows

Or chases dreams

Across the empty green pastures.

Those barn doors were closed long ago.

The rusted dust blew the blue away

Beyond the Missouri sky.

Now he lives his lives lost

Down that hole in the horizon

The broken boy fallen

To the bottom of the abandoned well

Where the demons drowned oh so many many years ago.



But he still remains, blinded

Hurting, struggling, believing the hole is whole.

Still feeling the fall, the bruises

The senses filled up with a bitter sauce.

A constant overflow.



But now, the wind is up...the rope attainable.

The muddy water no longer floods his mind.

Now, look to the pinpoint in the darkness

Now see the signs of the true sky,

A clear path through the molted stones.

Now, boy, now look, now see, now

You must want to feel the sunshine again.

Now, boy

Now, climb.