Bitter-Sweet

Bitter-Sweet. 

That that I’ve done.

Days, weeks, months

and years.

That that I’ve done through

twenty and nine years of my life.

Bitter-Sweet.  

The soot covered boy

that “Climbed” chimneys

The boy that “Became” a man.

The girl that “Became” a woman.

The boy that became a father,

the girl that became a mother.

Those brought to life

through imagination

that lived,

that grew in worlds

created through thoughts 

transmitted from mind

to fingers to keyboard.

Bitter-Sweet.

A world of life

created for those that laugh

for those that cry

for those that love and lose.

Bitter-Sweet. 

Those breathed life into

that I longed with,

felt alone with,

fought along with.

Those brought to life that I grew old with.

Bitter-Sweet. 

Twenty and nine years of the thought of words

that draw the pictures that you and you see

within your mind as the writer in me see within my mind:

The little boy that climbed.

The little boy that became a man.

The little girl that became a woman.

Bitter-Sweet.

The last sent now to become the people;

to become the world created

by me for you and you

to walk alongside:

The soot coated boy that climbed;

the little boy that became a man

that became an old man.

The little girl  that became a woman,

that became an old woman,

 Bitter-Sweet.

All through now.

All worlds created now.

My friends to become your friends.

Bitter-Sweet.

In the hands of others now,

nothing more to do

nothing more I can do.

Bitter-Sweet

writing's done now.