The 10th Floor: Where I Grew Up

Right to the right place

that’s where I will go.

From the beginning to now

I knew what I know.

That place was a prison

as you know too well.

Yes, a long time to heal

and look back at that jail.

I lost myself there

and what I know is

there’s a place I know

when we were kids.

When I learned,

where I was me

was the place

you were next to me.

Yet the light was dimmed

eventually to reveal ignorance.

All I knew is now meaningless,

yet as a child it made sense.

I remember that we

were young in that place.

Not knowing where to go

except staring face to face.

Constrained by circumstance

what choice was more wise?

What did you want?

Me to wear your disguise?

I am who I am and

the ones I call family

are the ones I must endure

so that I can be the best of me.

I know your

rebellious ways.

Because you left

and went far far away.

That is the place I go

in my mind when I think

of every time we laughed

finding ourselves on the brink.

We walked the razors edge

and cut was the twine between.

As I slipped and fell first

the line broke and I began to bleed.

But I am traveling

even now as I speak,

to a place so very rank

where men seek and sink.

Because regret is quicksand

mulling sinks us deeper.

Why a place so lowly?

Thinking forever that I need her?

It’s where I made

a choice you made me make.

Can you blame me

as a child that I made mistakes?

Welcome to my world

this ink dries awfully fast.

Where could we go

that could erase the past.

The past is the place

that haunts my timid soul.

I’m meek and mild

while you do your rock and roll.

Will a bridge be built now?

If no brick is layed I’ll cry.

Still time moves forward

and I will move earnestly and try.

As if a phantom I move along the floor.

Through that building on the tenth.

You should clearly remember

that there time made sense.

I love my chains

despite my rage.

At least it is constant

begging to write another page.

I would never know

what normal is without it.

I regret and hurt

but the fire in me is lit.

Categories: Choices, Freelance, Her, Peace, Personal, Poetry

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