Protected pockets and momma’s
kiss goodbye on a freshly scrubbed cheek.
Meek to mild, this internal child dreams
of rockets and exploration and all
the sex his nocturnal suspicions
can muster. Buster browns and eyeglasses
round and magnified to hide his
insecurities and foibles. A boy in hiding
and chiding his lack of confidence,
inhibitions exhibited and held on to closely
well past high school. A foolish one who
could have done all that he could handle
if he would have expanded his horizons. Despising
everything he has become. Solace in the words
he uses and abuses; a poet lost,
suspenders holding up his muse.

© Copyright Walter J. Wojtanik – 2016

Poetic Asides April Poem-A-Day Challenge: Day 1 – “Foolish”

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