Dear Future Me

Burning irises, like rings of fire, but trapped behind ice.

Turned cold from desire in dire need of something dormant sired, or required, or inspired…

No, revitalized.

Pairs and pairs of tiny eyes,

The children of our children’s children.

Eyes that should be innocent, tainted.

Tainted with a painted, slated perspective of society and visions that should have waited,

And births of ideas not ready to be created.

Maybe these are just the qualms of a soul outdated…

But, sweetheart, I hope you never forget.

I hope that hope is the only boundary between your eyes and the world

And that time is the only separation from you and that little girl

With unadulterated belief that life’s worth living,

Love’s worth giving,

And that there is nothing that could happen in this whole wide world

That isn’t worth forgiving.