The Affair
I fell in love with childhood,
he wore a red cape
made of polyester plaid,
tiny stitches of lines
circulated around his palm.
He never wore a mask,
his memories wore enough of one,
a fog remnant of a dream,
his home he’d never see again
all along the river, led up to a lake.
It didn’t matter anyway,
a wedge upon two brick walls
was a plaque – or a warning –
a memorial, perhaps, but
all succumbed to his pain,
every inch crumbled to dust.
That’s when I took his childhood away.
I fell in love with memories.
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New Poems
PoetryThis is an interactive poetry series. Every Friday I will post a new poem, and after four poems, I will make a video. Based on your votes and comments, I will read one of the four poems on my YouTube channel, and I will mention one lucky voter durin...