so
how did this happen?
this broken fairy tale
this chipped china cup
this stained linen
this orphan
with no home
wandering our hearts
searching for cures
and for clues
this pitiful beauty
lying before us
we have gorged upon bodies like his
and sipped from their restless souls
staining our teeth
with their grief
these tiny bits
these fragments
and their passions
arms and limbs
ripped
dangling
brought back
returning
to nests
to feed
to suckle
to nourish
our young
this young man
hungry with his vigilant desires
us with our cupboards bare
except for dust
and forgotten letters
tucked in cracks and crannies
some of love
some of fortitude
some of foolishness
scribbles and scratches
rants and raves
of excitement
of hope
that reminds us of him
just there
as he lay
so very still
innocent and weary
should we caution him
of traps
of unripe bitter fruit
of foolish dreams
and unreachable goals
telling him to go slow
or to be brave
or to run
or to hide
to let go
to be strong
to be cunning
should we tell him
that we
have already paid
upfront
and in full
his guardians
his watchers
his protectors
should we beg him
pleading
to end the search
accept truth
that nothing changes
and no one
ever will
should we show him
their graves
some monuments
some sticks
some stones
and some
just dust
should we empty our pockets
all the bits and pieces
on ceremonial cloths
some soiled
some plain
some shiny
some frayed
some sharp
some angry
that poked
that made us wince
and chuckle
as we made our way
bumping and prodding
along
all these parts
meticulously tucked
just so
just here
should we show him
the hope chests
the treasures
the remnants
of banners
that went to war
but never returned
except these pieces
inside
all of
these boxes
watch him dream now
wrestle and stir
this gallant soldier
in his slumber
this dreamer
this forger
this sailor
this weaver
maybe he’s weaving
a bridge back to them
a ship back to there
and that one day
we will all cross
to forgive
to once again be freed
to be born
to begin again
to once again be
better than
just
ok