Pillow Case

**This isn't really a poem sorry; more like a short writing, but please read it anyway and vote/comment

Today I saw a boat and it reminded me of you. Of the ragged pillow case your mom made that rests on your bed; your favorite one. That last piece of a little boy in a big boy’s room. The one with the little sailboat on the front. Does the maker of that pillow case know everything about it? Does she know what you did? You laid your head there after your first day of elementary, junior high, high school. You stifled laughter in it. You cried on it, holding it close for comfort, taking in the familiar scent. And someone else cried on it, taking in the alien smell of it, crying for a very different reason. You grew up here; you grew older here; and made someone else grow older too. Friends, beers, laughs, tears, shouts, fears. You’re a person; not a creation of the world today, or of the media, or the way you were raised; just a person. Are you a man now? Look at the things men can do? You are a person, look what people do. I saw a sailboat today. It had red sails that stood out against the azure blue sky. It reminded me of the pillow case, the one stained with your tears, and with mine