just another story

we’re born in a package, and we’re getting stale,
So I’ll hurry dear reader as I tell you a tale.
I’ll try to retain you, I’ll try to regale,
But as you’ll soon see, I try but I fail.

Life thrives from pleasure, strives to leave a mark
Finds joy in the sun, or a day in the park,
But not my existence, my contrast is stark
I lose in obscurity, and hide in the dark

My planet is myself, and most stay away
I lurk in the night, in the shadows by day.
I repulse at my leisure, no one hears what I say
But gravity has God Awful tricks it can play.

It can pull a form near that does not belong.
And now I can feel it, I want and I long
To treasure the sun as I cherish her song
To keep her forever, though I know I am wrong.

And she moves much closer, now her flight path impaired
And her pull takes me places my kind never dared
We walk through the city, not shy and not scared
My burdens are lighter, now being so shared

To all she is a flower, though it is I who am with her
and still in the shadows, I ooze and I slither
To give her my soul I would never dither
Though I cherish her petals and cannot let them whither

Sometimes precious ores drift too close and collide
But often they pass, a union denied
The latter was my lot, though for impact I tried
To ravage my oceans or a lonely mountainside

No. She moved past, to far brighter things
To families, and beaches, and jeweled wedding rings.
Some far better person to whom now she sings.
And I suffer alone with what heartache brings.

But sometimes dear reader, though I’m back out of sight,
And though I’m still certain that her choices are right
I’ll lurch from my hovel and stare into the night
In hopes just for a glimpse of a lost meteorite.

--Brian J., Adult