The Kid On The Moon

(This poem was written following the murder of my mother and the death of my father. It's about my acceptance of becoming an orphan and how much I resented everything around me even though I knew that it was exactly what was destined to happen) I was born to be a kid on the moon. Stuck in a suit with all this room. Can't move, it's heavy. Got a message for the world, it won't let me Get out and walk around. Can't breathe, I'd die if it left me. Can't live with it, without it, But let it define me? I won't allow it. Gotta get outside with no restrictions. Only thing I need is air, one of those suffocating addictions. So confined, I need variety, Interaction, society. Soundproof, but still crying out for help. Useless, like covering my own mouth. A million miles away, stuck in my own zone. Trapped in my own world all alone. Maybe I can jump. No, I'll get too high. Never touch down, cease to survive. No gravity, I'll leave this place. Float on into outer space. So cold, it's like I'm on the dark side of doom. Can't get to the bright side of the moon. Who cares? We al die too soon. I was born to be a kid on the moon.