Every time I think
I’ve smashed them all
I find another fortress
Occupied by some juvenile
Version of myself
In eternal battle
With who I was
The dark child trapped in battle
Green plastic army men
Hand painted Vikings
Urethane dinosaurs
Lining the walls
Of stone basements
Bound in blankets
Piled on boxes
Pillows on all sides
Of the shared fulcrum
A house of cards
Carefully built
By those who would command it
The brothers battling
To occupy as much space as possible
Before inevitable annihilation
With thoughtless tactics
Careless violence
Unrewarded surrender
Fights ensue
Trust fades
Time divides
Brothers break
Three
Then two
Then one
Dancing at prom
In a hand me down flesh suit
Driving hand me down cars
Dating hand me down girlfriends
Who become second time wives
Who spite
Or rage
Or just don’t give a damn
Jobs that lead nowhere
An attitude that leads to despair
A life that leads to solitude
Until I set the men myself
Upon walls that remain
Strong and well guarded
And the house of cards
Never falls

Published by J M Greff

J M Greff is the rambling author, trucker philosopher, peace loving hippie, spiritual warrior, backpacking pantheist, wandering minstrel, and poet fool who created A Caravan of One for you. View all posts by J M Greff