(about 1993 ~ a take on the play by Tennessee Williams)
A young lad, holding a star--
then, encompassed by light.
I had my dream in my grip
and far off I saw a candle,
it was high;
there I was, reaching.
Then it was time
to touch the real world.
A dose of that choking medicine,
suffocating me
as I reach for the candle;
to have that light
that I soon forgot.
Hoping to speak to the public
and drop the manufacturing slum
making the world's shoes
to walk all over us.
Looking back; remembering now
the candle I almost held.
In the end, it was her.
She provided the light
that now I have--
forever shimmering in the glass
of her menagerie--
broken and piercing in my heart--
resembling tears.
Did I touch her life as she touched mine?
I, left with a fire,
never to be put out.
And blue roses, left illuminated
by a fragile flame,
and a few soft words--
don't blow, don't blow.
