after a certain age, you don't believe
in Santa Claus or even God
positive thinking doesn't bring you money
friends don't last forever, and sometimes
they hurt you, sometimes they let you down.
It gets harder to believe that Democrats
can ever win, or rich people ever lose,
and candidates, like other men, will break your heart
After a certain age, you get tired
of making concessions for stupid people
tired of being scolded at work by those
less competent than you are
and didn't they take religion from me
shape Jesus with their bigotry, shrink God
into a pitiless nag who worries more
about blow jobs, saying fuck, or a glimpse of breast
than he cares about bombs on an innocent people
or soldiers sent to die for corporate greed,
for one man's insecurity. They took God away,
turned patriotism into an empty flag
that stands for nothing but colors on a cloth
After a certain age you realize
maybe I'm not so special, maybe my dreams
were never really worth the dreaming
maybe I'm not so different from anyone
who aches and stumbles out of bed each day
After a certain age, the world is changed
to one you barely knew existed
you move by habit, move out of spite,
move ahead by increments, to lose again
falling back three as you reach for one
you wonder what you do it for
except there is a child who still believes
in Santa Claus and angels, a child
with three freckles, one pointed ear, hair that sticks up straight
who happens to hold my everything, my every dream
everything I ever thought, or wished were true
one child, one face, one heart who still believes.
I won't guess how long this lasts. until a certain age, when
he grows, no longer needs to cuddle, no longer needs me
to fight for him. to believe, for him
and fight. this is enough for me
for now
© 11-13-04