I want to write a poem about stupid feelings and depressing crap but that isn’t my character. My mind is spinning with all the lives that are missing and and the days that are flying. I want to write stories of marvelous humans and fairy tales about saving princesses from evil wizards and dragons but there’s something else. There’s something in the background pulling the strings and grinding the gears. Stopping me from thinking and solving and staring the answer in the face. Making me face the obstacles I purposely avoided in order to protect my party. The friends around me are all trying their bests but some have fallen into the same trap that have. They can’t seem to leave, hell, I’m not even out yet. We can’t seem to sleep even though our eyes are closed and its all dark. All the methods to block out the worst are gone. I start to look to music for the answer but it was the worst outcome I could have found. Music was like the gateway drug to all other questions in the world that we don’t think about until someone brings it up as if it was small chat. Although it made my brain fry and scramble it unleashed more than just questions.. a sense of wandering. The mysteries of the author makes their way into your thought process in what trap they had fallen into to create such a powerful, impacting song. Although I’m still stuck in a hole with four others, it can easily turn into zero others if you contain malice or multiple if you want to imagine. So, that’s it. I’m stuck here. The song is ending. There are no final words on the will. There is no sun shining in the day and no moon lighting up the night. There is no color in the picture. The letter didn’t make it to Santa Claus. And the one who is gone.. is not coming back.
But time runs infinitely and if I’m stuck here, someone will also find this trap and fall in it. And one after another, others will come.. until one stops and sends down a rope. A new song will begin. A new child is born. The next day will come. The color is found in their smiles. The gift will be received. And the one who is gone is gone, but is still in your heart and memories. Thank you Rob Ryan