Thread: Miss You

I can't seem to stop looking
at this blurry photograph -
time, it seems, has been unkind.

These are the same chocolate eyes, yes,
but they hold no lust.
Once filled with flashing rage,
soul-windows now dim and dull.

I wonder what has happened while I was away,
what harsh events made the vibrant youth I knew
look so weary
.
I am happy now, so very many states away;
my future is fertile,
while the brief glimpse I see of yours
shows something less than freedom.

I once knew you better than myself,
knew how you longed to be rid of the shackles of your mother's trailer.
Freckled hand weighed down by a shabby class ring,
this photo shows me
you let a man rule your future.

I stare but I can't seem to believe
that at nineteen,
you're holding a baby,
and at twenty,
I have traveled so far
just to miss you.

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Don't be stingy with critiques; I'm very rusty and probably more than a little sappy.

Hi Damien, so good to see you around again. I really like this piece and what you're saying here, very touching to me. Who doesn't have a childhood friend who fits this? I certainly do.
I've made a few suggestions that I think tighten it up a bit. I don't think you're as rusty as you think you are.


I can't seem to stop looking
at this blurry photograph -
time, it seems, has been unkind.----I think cut one 'seems' from this.

These are the same chocolate eyes, yes,
but they hold no lust.
Once filled with flashing rage,
soul-windows now dim and dull.

I wonder what has happened while I was away,
what harsh events made the vibrant youth I knew
look so weary
.
I am happy now, very many states away; -- stronger without 'so very'
my future is fertile,
while the brief glimpse I see of yours
shows something less than freedom.

I once knew you better than myself,
knew how you longed to be rid of the shackles of your mother's trailer.
Freckled hand weighed down by a shabby class ring,
this photo shows me
you let a man rule your future.

I stare but I can't seem to believe
that at nineteen,
you're holding a baby,
and at twenty,
I have traveled so far
just to miss you.

Nice, Damien and good comment of Gumby.

Oh, my breath was stolen by this. I agree with Gumby's points; the piece is stronger with the changes suggested. But as you wrote it, it's still powerful.

Damien--what a stunning poem. I could read this over and over. On the first read, I thought the person in the photograph was the writer, who missed the person he once was. On second read, I thought it might be the writer's love in the photo, long gone but not forgotten. On the third read, I thought it might be the writer's boyhood friend. On the fourth read, I was convinced again that it was a picture of the writer. On each read, it conjured the same feeling of melancholy and nostalgia (and perhaps loss or yearning), regardless of who was in the picture. But not knowing the identity makes it all the more interesting to read. I feel compelled to "figure it out." Wonderful piece, Damien.