"Failure was not an option for me."

second/thirdish version after editing.

Before he was not,

He was Dean.

 

Still,

Pearl white keys sing for him.

Irony sits, waiting to be put to use.

 

Still,

Sad and lonely and

Deaf to song.

 

The Ohio garage daily warned me.

“Be gentile with him.”

 

Its cement walls were wrong.

 

I don’t know which walls to hear;

They all talk at me.

 

They are decadent bricks.

Pink and itchy insulation

Genuine about fluff!

 

How dare they claim maternity!

In all their excess surfaces

They didn’t tell me,

“Be gentile with you.”

Walls are square white keys on a piano

Polluting the child with noise.

Author's Note

Poem's old as sin.

Reviews

[An owl on the moon]

Your poetry forms intimate glimpses into relationships and reality... Love the dance of your words.