Barefoot you ran along the shore, sunny legs, long and thin.
Berry-ripe face, towhead hair, straight eyes and crooked grin.
You laughed long and you laughed loud, challenging the open sky.
You laughed long and you laughed loud, raised fist demanding “Why?”

You wanted to unlock the deep, dark sadness in your soul,
To release the molten lava seething just beyond control.
But when the wild hysteria passed the rent was deeper still.
You filled the gap with bubble wrap and took a sleeping pill.

Your body grew into a man you hardly recognised.
You did what all the others did and hoped to win the prize.
You chose a wife, made a life and worked hard every day.
Racked with aches you stumbled on, slaving just for pay.

You never asked for kids and yet they showed up anyway.
Snot-nosed brats demanding time; attention seeking, they
Took the best and left the rest for sacrificial Dad.
So you ran once more and laughed once more, panicked ego-mad.

You made a bed of jagged glass and laid your body down.
You called it “truth,” bled profuse and then began to drown.
You dulled the pain with hot cocaine, reality to flee.
The Russians came and captured you and tied you to a tree.

And at the end, with meds for friends, you gloried in regret.
Looking for redemption’s key, you drove shards deeper yet.
A life that widely missed the mark, a man we’d never known,
The barefoot boy runs the shore still laughing all alone.







Day Three: Fourteener

Notes: Today’s prompt is to write a fourteener. Fourteeners can be have any number of lines, but each line should have fourteen syllables.

This is an incredibly sad piece.  I almost didn’t publish it because it is so morose.  The title begs mercy and seeks to give hope.

It also does not STRICTLY work as a “fourteener.”  I beg your indulgence.