The Boy at the Window

The Cracks in the ceiling are filled with dripping water.

The shadow of a man is only as big as those around him.

the little dead moth lays at the boy's useless feet 

like a point for a pin to spin on,

and he makes an inverted pin, the point magnetized to the moon.

He wishes, yet cant go to the moon; he merely observes her,

her beautiful, wonderful vastness

watching

the soft light on his face, 

is neither hot nor cold,

only there

But when the Moth

visits the wall,

the moon looks differently on him. 

He emerges from a hole under one of the windows

and begins to walk walls of the small room.

The moth thinks the moon is a  hole to the spaceways

The boy watches the moth

Wishing he could be like this beautifully ugly creature 

it's shadow dragging like a child's blanket 

He climbs with valor, thinking that he can brave any challenge 

to push his small head through that round clean opening

and find freedom through to the Brave New World beyond this room

The boy, sitting below him, has no such illusions, for he can not see the world like the rest.

But what the Moth 

Oh, The Moth can do as he pleases

Each Day He must sit

Each Night He must be carried 

towards his reoccurring dreams.

Dreams of running

of climbing

of standing

He does not dare look out the window,

and see the amorphous and ever-changing sky filled with beautiful prisms of lights

but he has been defeated

his ability to wonder is too great

The Boy looks, but cannot explore

He has to keep to the room.

  If you see the moth,

hold up a light to his eye. 

Its beetle-black eye is a star-filled night.  

whose grandiose horizon tightens

as he stares back, and closes up the eye. 

Just as the Boy goes to sleep, yet when he looks out at his broken dream of the sky,

a single tear appears and trickles down his face

And sadly he wipes it, then goes back to his nothingness

Reviews

[zunie frost]

each and every words sounds perfect !!

If you see the moth,
hold up a light to his eye.
It’s beetle black eye is an star filled night.
whose grandiose horizon tightens
as he stares back, and closes up the eye.

these lines are the most powerful one !!
lovely write . full rating

[Sami Khalil]

" Man is only as big as those around him.
the little dead moth lies at the boys useless feet
like a point for a pin to spin on,"

[C. Rose]

Should "to great" be "too great"?

I enjoyed this. The description of the sky, his jealousy of the moth, the unique imagery of a hole at the top of the sky and a shadow like a child's blanket dragged.

Bravo.

[Skai Rain]

A great poem. I like how it tells a full story. Keep up the good work.

[Sami Khalil]

"He does not dare look out the window,
and see the amorphous and ever-changing sky filled with beautiful prisms of lights
but he has been defeated
his ability to not wonder is to great
The Boy looks, but cannot explore
He has to keep to the room."

I echo what the other writer said. Excellent...:).......................

[John Ryan]

thank you sami :)

[Sami Khalil]

You are welcome...:).......

[Savanna]

very interesting, it seems whimsical but wrapped in the dark of nothingness
Keep on writing ^_^

[John Ryan]

thank you savanna i really appreciate it