The Grail
How could I have lost it?
I see people with so much, it spills from their pores,
leaving trails of gold behind them, wherever they go.
But I misplaced mine.
Maybe it's in that schoolhouse,
where I learned which colors, and textures, were wrong.
Or in the chapel I climbed to, with the last of my strength, to tell them:
'I can't do this anymore'.
And they laughed, and laughed.
And I cried, and cried.
I cried a stream, so my paper boat could carry me far from the chapel,
back to the dark apartment, I called my home.
I checked the bedside table,
thinking maybe I'd find it there,
sitting next to Smith, and a half a bottle of Jack, and Benny who never quite got me to sleep.
But there was only a clean spot, in the layer of dust, where it had been sitting.
It's somewhere I'm sure.
If I find it one day, maybe I'll know why they laugh, and dance, and sing.
Maybe, I'll feel what they feel.