Icarus Sleeps in Washington

The inexorable creep of sleep

seeps into my toes

worries and woes

Thrown out my window.

For during good times

I have flown too close to the sun.

I am an Icarus, drawn to the sun

only to be cast down towards the sea of insecurities

to change good times

the livelihood and undeniable sweet childhood

to that of adulthood, a poisoned dogwood

Poisoned, poisoned, poisoned and boys

and with joy, we are toys of poise and no noise

Society says we should be swooning

over cowboys or bad boys

or band boys or some Troy Bolten sort of boy.

Society is causing anxiety

because I can see that I am not what society's dreams of

my variety is not in society's needs.

American sweetheart, but when I gave out my heart it got hurt hard.

So I keep it locked up in a little box with the red ribbon.

I like to keep my emotions blocked up

till these words burst on to my paper

now or later trying to unscramble my thoughts

but I can't so I rant this chant,

the scant pant, not quite a deviant.

I long for love or maybe just a hug

or maybe just some drugs and a pug.

I just want to go home.

Roaming through Rome

maybe just roaming on to Wyoming.

But that is not home.

Washington is home.

The place of the glowing moon

and with the moon comes sleep

and with sleep, I repeat

The inexorable creep of sleep

seeps into my toes worries and woes

Thrown out my window.