I feed the squirrels some peanuts from atop my throne
They climb my body as they grow attached to me
Some pick at my hair by accident and then slide down to pick up the ones that I have thrown
I am always surrounded by them. They like my snacks and tend to see me as their tree
I come to this park every day to feed them. They are always sitting and waiting for me
I try to come up with different types of nuts as to not bore them with the same things again and again
Sometimes, some of them don't like some flavors, but they eat them regardless on a spree
Whichever eats fastest and with cleverness gets to pick their favorites without abstain
Sometimes they fight for them, but I make sure to bring more next time
The more I bring, the happier they get. Some even began to sit on top of me
I am starting to feel like their source. That, without me, there would be no more playtime
Some bring me their empty shells. Some, only a plea
I am their pillar. I have been for a lifetime now
I am growing old. Old and forgetful
I bring less and less every day as they grow angrier. They know nothing but disavow
Some turn their back on me. I become regretful
I spent my whole life feeding them so they could grow to become kings of the tree themselves
But my princes, my princesses, they only ever wanted me for my riches. My nuts of art
Now, I am still king. A king with no crown, without something on the shelves
My squirrels, my students. Their works were stolen from my mind. My heart
They pride and share themselves without remorse
A path to my kingdom littered with empty shells and with no referrals
Benevolent to a fault. I shared before I fed myself. I guided them to the source
The only work to my name. The last painting I did. King of squirrels
YOU ARE READING
Memory Fragments
FantasyWARNING: CONTAINS VERY EXPLICIT CONTENT. Sooner or later, we all crumble beneath our fears. It's up to us to recall what makes us human and stand strong against adversity. Memories, shattered and scattered throughout our lives, come to us one by one.
