Taught me something
When you were younger you wouldn't admit just how wide eyed you were. You shuffled out, cane in hand, to face this new world with your fiercest grimace. In hindsight, don't suppose I should have known any better-what kid does? Ninety?
Barely any grit in the gears.
But it taught you something.
Even before you were snagged back home by your ear, it taught you something.
If I didn't know any better, I'd have liked to say we grew from that.
Ofcourse, you'd have had to have learned something first.
Life had just drawled on for far too long; anyone could have seen, should have seen. The looming hangover keeping you from attending the party.
So when you were a little older, not much mind, you stepped out the door again with a little more vigour. A little more schmooze; oh how you loved it. And why not? It was so easy to just…bounce.
Key in the ignition, tearing off through the cricket field; gelatinous fix of the sugary kind. All of you, so much life between the lot.
Those were the glory days, weren't they? Not that you appreciated any of them at the time.
Funny, how does such a sweet little shimmer, tiny, so very tiny in the night sky, come by such a magnificent hue long after the gun powder settles along the winter's crisp edge?
Now that taught you something.
Maybe that's why you had to reach out once more time; the tighter you held to them, the more dead weight you could keep from riding your shoulders?
When you were younger, you'd convinced yourself you'd grown all you ever would; and who knows, maybe you had a point. It was a hell of a weight, and I won't tell you that I don't still carry it. No point, I suppose, in not saying that I no longer walk under its' shadow.
But isn't that the wonder of it?
You won't realise, much less understand; but you saw how to step out from underneath that canopy. Oh, and how you'll breathe in that fresh air.
Trust me; even though you turn from it right now, back into the murk, you won't be be buried there forever.
Trust the old man in you on this one, eh? It taught you something.
Taught me something.
A frantic grip crushes more than it will cover; and you won't let go. I won't let go, of course I won't, because now we don't need to.
You taught me well...
You taught me something.