525,600 Minutes

 

I wake up on Christmas morning, five years old.

The toys I’ve been drooling over for the past three months now sit under the tree.

My father wraps his arm around my mother’s waist and hugs her close,

Smiling with incredible joy at me and my siblings.

 

I am home.

 

The aroma of sausage and eggs meander from the kitchen

Into the living room,

Teasing my taste buds.

This is just the beginning of a wonderful day.

All I saw at the time were the gifts.

Something was hiding….

I begin to tear into the next present but " 

 

I made the mistake of blinking.

 

 

 

I wake up on Easter morning, eight years old.

My young mind feels like it’s on a tight rope:

Someone too young to understand life,

And a child too old to be a kid again.

The McDonald’s play place is a thing of the past,

As is the happy meal.

I’m too old for that, you see.

But I’m never too old to enjoy Easter candy.

Church that morning is different, though.

Why was that lady crying?

My mind returns to the chocolate, but "

 

I made the mistake of turning my head.

 

I wake up on my thirteenth birthday.

I am now a man, obviously.

Just a matter of days before

I will be in desperate need

Of a car and a razor.

However, I am immune for the day

To all the cares of even a new teenager.

 

The guys and girls treat each other differently now,

But I can’t quite figure out why.

Just yesterday we were all playing together.

Has something changed between us?

Maybe it’s because….

 

Why did I have to start high school?

 

I wake up the morning of my driving test

Ready to tear up the road,

But only after I have impressed the instructor.

Yes, I do need the razor now.

The changes I dreamed about

Are actually here.

 

I think I figured it out.

About the guys and girls thing, I mean.

Gender boundaries are set up now that we’re older.

We didn’t realize what that was before.

We simply played together.

Even at sixteen, why can’t we do that anymore?

Simplicity and innocence are sacrificed

In the name of societal correctness.

 

I am now somewhat of a recluse

That enjoys reading Tolkien and writing stories.

But I don’t mind.

My story is coming along fine.

But what I really need is…

 

I wake up on my first day of college.

I don’t have a clue what to expect.

I have my own car, but that hasn’t given me freedom.

Shaving has just left my skin raw, not transformed me into a man.

Apprehensive.

Determined.

Worried.

Ambitious.

My plans at thirteen for my life

Have ultimately led me to my search

For myself, here at eighteen.

At five years old, what was missing?

Have I found it yet?

At church that morning,

Could that lady still be crying?

 

I’m left with questions.

Life doesn’t care to respond to them,

And certainly doesn’t answer them.

The mere presence of these questions maddens me!

 

 

I was happy at five with the gifts.

The chocolate at eight years old made me content.

Simple joys fail me as I am gradually nudged

Into the daily grind.

If ignorance is bliss

Then joy is shunned

In this Age of Information.

It’s almost time for my first class.

Time to….

 

I wake up at the end of my fifth semester. 

 

Finals are here for the fifth time in my college career.

Bills are due next week.

My car needs a tune up.

I need new razors.

Christmas shopping isn’t close to being done.

Life will continue to refuse answers.

So I answer them for myself.

 

That little something hiding on Christmas morning

At five years old?

Well, my parents had sacrificed a lot for me to get that new toy.

That lady crying?

She had just went through a divorce

After her husband had an affair.

Those changes between girls and guys?

They led to me falling in love.

 

Father Time is growing old,

While Mother Nature

Piles on more responsibilities.

 

And yet, some things returned.

 

Sleep doesn’t come easy

On Christmas Eve.

Chocolate can bring a simple joy.

Birthdays still offer immunity.

Perhaps some questions can go unanswered.

Just for tonight.

 

Now if I could only…

 

 

 

Author's Note

I am going to begin editing/publishing my poems on here that I wrote for a class this semester. I ended up with some poems I really like.

All of the poems, including this one, are modern in style. There is no rhyme or meter. It is borderline prose, but not quite.

I tried to convey the innocence in a 5 year old, then progressively add more and more knowledge as I progressed my character in age. Not only does he look back, but he becomes a bit more observant, and perhaps even cynical, as time goes on.

Please feel free to leave any comments and suggestions!