To live is to see yourself
In the midst of a tsunami wave
Bound to take it all away and all your head can do
Is process your leaving, you
You uttered the imminent
And said you’ve decisively decided to take your life
And knowing you, it’s hard not to believe
A man of a decisive nature
Who will never lie, to the detriment of
An old friend.
In the tunnel where we feel small
Of a children’s playground, though it had never been mine
For I joined late, from away
And yet still found a place to regain
The years I lost to another land
In the tunnel where we feel weighed
By the big loving embrace of a ceiling too low to lie
To us about ‘true hope’ and how
The sky is the limit.
Well, the sky is touching my head, but now it does not lie
And for you, it is likely the same tunnel vision
That is bound to take you away, while I’ll live to see
Another day
In the tunnel where I know who you are
And will be, because perspective is the one thing
You do not possess, but I see, I see
I’ve always seen and it pains me
That the celestials could see it too, and even tell you
Shout it at you
And you would never see
In the womb of a tunnel
All I hear is an ultra sound to defy its speed
Ricocheting restlessly, though strangely acceptingly
My own thoughts of your premeditation
Blasting a sorrowful possibility,
That you will not be coward enough to live
For your philosophy dictates that
Until now, you have been too much of one
To go through, to misconstrue
What you deserve, I know you do
And though you may never care, I can swear
Hand on heart (shoulder) you do deserve it all
More than me, for I am a poet with a passive existence
And you are, well, anything you could wish to be
In the tunnel where I feel childlike again
It whispered to me, in all its indignation
To not grow up too fast, and so I paced myself
And listened to your speaker echo sounds of
What it feels to be a child again, always
And though I never did, in memory I know
I could’ve closed my eyes for a peaceful eternity
Next to a friend, in a children’s tunnel next to a climbing frame
Contorted in silly ways, for we are not ten anymore
Our motion sickness submitting to prevailing winds
Of feeling okay, while I hope you’ll live to see
My other day, take a rain check
On that gruesome plan of yours
And maybe in ten years from now, we’ll still fit
In a tunnel next to a climbing frame
And though I may never tell you then
I will still think of your imminent plan
And hope ten years is enough to decisively decide
It is a thing of the past, and no more