(Part II of Storefront of Normalcy)
wait! the boy has awakened
but gives a private show
for the shy lad who begs for acceptance
only one is known who he can go
though sharp quills guard her dimples,
the soothing touch they cannot hide
for the quills only attack the storefront
never aimed for the boy inside
copper painted compassion
is what he peaks his head out to find
staggered by the wave of innocence
long swept to the back of his mind
his talk may seem repetitive
for in voicing affection he is unsure if he dares
translate when he says “It’s a Sarah”
is when he really means, he cares
–
so long have i planted seeds of reality
now sit back and watch them grow
for soon i can gather the fruits for my market
and polish them for sale or for show
lest i forget to tend to my garden
wherein the soil is easy to please
i may miss out on the harvest
and my mind will be ill at ease
there is one who holds a key
and has offered to mend my past
although fruit from another tastes sweeter
who knows if the seasons will last