The 3 year itch

He sat with his homework holding back his breath,

Dad walked in with the letter and that look of death,

The room felt empty and sullen,

Dad cracked up, it was a joke, they were moving. ‘Let’s get packin’! 

Days turned into years and years into today,

The thought of moving still steered his mind astray,

There wasn’t a time he knew to be permanent and true,

In this strange reality, his mind and reality grew.

Friends, love and time would ask him to stay,

But every three years, a part of him, would begin to flay,

He would fight it and beg for stability,

But his mind and heart, defiantly, refused this insanity. 

He was a boy of dreams and wonder,

To which he did often surrender,

And when the mind finally grew restless and tired of this fight,

He would put his hands up and quietly disappear into the night. 

Advertisements
The 3 year itch

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s