Firestorm

The sunlight on my face felt great. I am happy to be awake and so blessed because everyone including me is welcome at the dinner table as special guests. After dinner I ride my bike with many children who are my true friends. I scrape my knees often when I fall down on the cement. Though this pain is never bothersome for I am always rewarded with a get a get well kiss from my mother and a cartoon band-aid to keep infections at bay, or at least that's what the old people say. I love being alive and I will find new ways to imagine games full of fun for something like eternity and beyond. I don't care about the reoccurring nightmare of the firestorm because it is forgotten when the light breaks through the window and fearful depression is hidden from view.

I never payed attention at how the second hand spun so intensely around the corners of the family clock. How ignorant of me as a child to ignore every tick and every tock as time matters little to the heart of a child. Each day is beautiful and enjoyable without responsibility is it not? Insignificant they remain as the change of character building is reserved for adults who lost the magic of imagination and are incapable to see the beauty in any way.

I have made no greater blunder in my life than invest time in fantasy because life is structured to eat men like me alive. I should have rejected the desire to stay a kid who only wonders and never acts upon the meaning behind times viscous cycle. I should have feared the start and end of each day, I should have cared when I watched the lighting strike the hearts of adults. I should have never intentionally blocked out the memories of the terrifying sound of thunder as they fell from the top of the world. I am haunted by the moment when I saw death reap it's reward upon adults like me.

It has been many decades since i was welcome at the dinner table and I have long since been unable to ride my favorite bike with the shadows of friends. What is a companion anyway? If I cant define it, it must mean it is not necessary. The memory of my childhood is fuzzy but it still shatters my pride that I was so irresponsible with my time . I Am Looking at the fire slowly dwindle down now as an aged man who never did anything. I never did fight the second hand from spinning, I was mesmerized by a fantasy that since the light was gentle that time would be simple. The fire finally faded into nothing. The smoke rose slowly and the ticking of the clock kept on going even though it had destroyed my hope long ago. I just wish I could forget the regret I have towards following the feeble minded childhood dream that I was special and life was a never ending adventure full of love and wonder.

Before I fall asleep into deaths embrace, I lived the firestorm life, my advice is to avoid making the mistake I made and conforming into resentment. Don't let the mold own you, don't wait until you are to old to take back the hate that banishes the sunlight of the heart of a child.