~°*°~
Once upon a time, in years gone by...
There is a river I return to
not because it waits for me...
It was nothing,
that is the cruelty of it...
I live in the pause between answers,
in the soft hesitation...
I keep returning to a memory
that will not stay still long enough...
They taught him early—
hands steady, voice level...
He learns the shape of strength too young—
how to stand like stone while storms pass through...
There are men who learn the world
like a language with missing vowels...
There are hours men learn to disappear inside—
not with drama...
There are men who are not missing—
but slowly uncounted...
There are men who live like footnotes—
not because their lives are small...
Not a crown,
not a verdict...