There remains fodder about you;
simply because you,
had such an impact.
Youthful wonder and exciting disbelief,
complete with (now) baseless conviction,
all because and due to you.
Such wonder has long faded away.
You became less in eyes than what
you once were perceived to be.
Now 50, formerly and wholly 100.
But for the purposes of poetry,
You live and you breathe and you exist through
curiosity and self-analysis replacing
all that thrived before:
wonder, disbelief, (now) baseless conviction.
No more resentment.
No more anger.
No more laying of fault.
I think of you only when words cry to
be let out, when souls demand
an explanation of that curious, curious
And I am well.
Not that it matters to you.
It matters to me.
It should have always mattered to me.
Copyright © Girley