Young Captive, Dearest Friend
.
.
I hope you have a room with a view,
once your freedom is safely buried
beneath the sad weight of dark, wet earth.
Preferably a window
.
framing the west side of the city,
where the dark business buildings
are silhouetted against the effervescent sky,
all done up in fire, fading into black.
.
I hope you remember there's a world here,
distinct and separate
from the melancholically vain hole
into which you crawled. Maybe one day
The Sun will dismember the self-importance
that constantly capsizes any purpose
you ever thought you had.
.
I hope someday your freedom
can be disinterred, leaving behind a mess of
scattered soil and upturned grass, when you can
walk away from your westward window
and never glance back. Not even once.
.
I hope you remember who you were
before you became who you never wanted to be.
