A Narrative Poem
From a distance I thought I saw you today.
Your diminished self that I always looked down upon because I stand a few feet higher.
Yet, even in your little stature, the control you held over me was deafening.
It rocked me, swaying me from the beginning of our season to the end.
Was it you today that I saw searching through the shoes?
I quickly glanced at you and scurried away,
like I was still a wounded dog waiting for their master to help them.
Your hat sat on your head, cool in design with its backward placement,
even though you had a history older than my own.
I guess you have forgotten our time together.
The way you’d played the victim made me into a villain.
Now, I watch as the time passes into one another,
second into each second, and I am still here,
in cerebration of what you’ve done,
and what I am, holding an ire too pleasing to drop.
There is no one to blame for the inconsistent memory board
that I type into existence every time I blink into a
second of each second, and I am still here,
In cerebration of what you’ve done,
how you made me the villain and the pun.