poemetry

2021-3-9

“i have never been free
to live my life!”
sounds like the kind of
hyperbolic nonsense
an angsty seventeen-year-old
would declaim as his parents
tell him, no,
you may not stay out till midnight
on a school night.
coming from an old man,
it sounds like an excuse
for never having the guts
to follow his heart.
that’s why i whisper
that sad confession
to no one,
not even myself.
i do not want to recall
how many years
i have lost
to fear,
pain, and anger.
no matter how true,
an excuse is an excuse,
and an excuse
is the best jailer
of all.

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