He lost his mind a time ago.
Some say it was his heart.
Some say it was his soul.
Some didn’t know what to call it, but they knew that it was something.
He was eternal once.
He was clear
And his eyes shone like dazzling stars.
Eventually, they stopped taking his rubbish,
And left it for him to dispose of.
And so did his collection of collections –
In his mind,
In his closet,
In his pockets, he stored them all.
By the time he realized, he was too late.
The lights were too bright for him to see the way.
The noise was too great to find the source.
The pile was too high to see beyond.
He was trapped.
There was too much to lose. Too much had been built.
Too much had been gained.
If he just let it go it would all come crashing down,
And he would be left to face the sky,
Naked and shameful.
He was safe in his cage,
He built it well.
Already he had lost too many things.
He didn’t want to lose more.
He couldn’t risk it.
His final demise came, of course,
When he realized he could save face if he just stayed in the cage,
And never mention the sky.
No one would ever know.
By John Thursday