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Music Box Memories

by SomeMalaise

Poem and how I’m feeling

I log on to my pc
I built it with my own hands and money
I see the backdrop of a starry sky and moon
In my ear I have a music box tune running
And tears are trying to flood into the room

A simple child’s song that brings out memories I wish I had
Each little tinkle, trickle and bom
A music box, xylophone, a trumpet and an instrument unknown

From innocence it sends me
Unto the darker strokes that bring the sadness to the fore

It highlights a lot of inconsistencies
And points out a lot of hard choices I’ve had to make
Ridding of friends I did not know how to handle
And my brain trying to force me to regret

The tune so simple and light to start
Is the same that towards the end breaks my heart

These tears welling into my eyes
Yes they some how refuse to fall
I tried to cry earlier and yet they hang on the rim
So I did things to make myself happy
Unfortunately the happiness remained dim

Strange one I am who had a friendm call to brighten my day
I love them with my heart and soul
Yet I’m so tired even with rest that I just didn’t want to play
So I’m sitting here soul crying and writing this poem

Or maybe it’s not a poem at all
Just a parallel of words that make sense
That cost no cents
And allow me to release

But I’m not feeling much better
I’ve played my video games
And visited my online Second Realm
But everything is mixed together
Yes that means both virtual and real are hell

I long for an escape
And though death is what I seek
I’m feeling to cowardly lazy and weak

Meek? Na I don’t think so
I’d still be living humbly
And be gratefully so

I still have my doctor on my mind
But that would be my own fault
If I could have had an honest sign
I’d know what to do
And proceed best I can
But no signs exist
So I continue to deal with this hand

And no I cannot cheat
I tried before
Weed does not work
Nor does alcohol

Cutting got boring
And hitting myself in the head?
I tried the saner of it all

I could try hard drugs
And force myself to ingest liquors against my body’s will
But what point would it be if I’d be worse ill

I’m still dreaming of that farm
So far it would be from here
A dog and wife
No children not here

Self sustaining
While in physical pain
Working hard in the fields
With a weak hip and bad legs

My arms can take a beating
My chest? Not so much
My abdomen is flabby
And back? Please don’t touch

I’d have my hoe and rake
Mud covered hands and old boots caked
My skin would be dirty and weathered
And my eyes a pale brown would scan the scape

My wife would look me in the eyes
She knows I’m tired
She knows I ache
She knows i’d stay in the fields till my dying day
But that doesn’t stop her from pulling me in to get my rest
To prepare for the next day and try to pass it’s tests

A warm bowl of stew and day old bisquits
All the hard work did provide this
And though it wasn’t much she placed love in the dish
The love I put into the fields is combining with this

We eat and our hearts and bellies are full
And with gratitude I offer to do the night’s cleaning
My bones and back can ache all they want
But nothing will stop me from showing the love I have before I’m gone

I’ll stop here because this poem turned into a story.
And I am not known for my brevity.

I still feel no better
Whatever burden this is it’s heavey
Something so heavy my tears are kept from flowing
And my ears are aching

Ah now I remember it’s the music box memories that are overtaking.

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