Is It You I’m Writing For


The sage burns, the high wears out; and back again I see I’m not alone…

It wasn’t you that I was writing for.

You’ve already heard each word cycle back again.

I wrote instead for the burdened naïve child I am and always have inside.

I am older now, but younger still I’ll always be.

And it’s for him I’ve written.

No, you already know better; you’ve grown beyond where I am and will be.

I am always just a kid in shame;

An old man growing wiser.