On Guard
By despotis
On Guard I now believe that my perpetual passive nature phase must become just that, a phase. It seems I've been vacillating between dormant and hyperactive apathy for many a moon. I'm the cat on the fence. Dodging shoes, tin cans, leftovers, blatant insults, and whatever else the neighbors have left over from their year round garage sale. I try to remain balanced, duck,and sing at the top of my lungs. I've always made my presence known. Nightly serenades for no one. Sifting through sonatas until the day breaks. As the sun is making his entrance, I shuffle off into the world I've worked so hard to create. Capturing the tormented sunlight in the jar I keep my lightning bug cult leaders. I would need to cover the holes in the lid to keep the Sun King from escaping. Covering the holes, however, would certainly mean the end for my flight ready, glowing creatures. Auschwitz in a jar. Which one shall I part with? Written March 26th, 1997 © on May 21 2001 01:50 AM PST 0 • 1
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"On Guard..."