I toss each charcoal little pebble,
making a spiral ring around the reflection of myself.
I see what a good looking man I’ve become.
It comes in handy during the important years,
Which are still providing me with care.
Some throw themselves at me,
But it does not faze me much anymore.
I sit by this elderly swamp, because I believe It keeps me sane.
It’s a long walk through the side woods, across a few house yards.
I sneak around to investigate, never to sneak.
The cattails swing as water trickles underneath,
The gusts pick up and flutter the loose seeds.
I can feel the rainstorm in the air,
I can feel the rainstorm inside of me.
I could sit on this glittered filled boulder all day if I chose
But hopefully to reach my getaway.
The glitter cannot always control my troubles and take them away,
But to only hide them until I’m back in reality.