A Poem for Akim

He should have known what it would cost
The gutters are our sidewalks
Through them we traipse
With barren glee
Through crackled "what could be’s"
What could have been the season when
Thought fragments pierce the sky
And go up high, caress the sun
They singe their pride, but cool their fear
Of flying
He should have known what it would cost
To him in silence stood
And from the rise in feelings tide
Devoutly misunderstood
He measures in pain, reflects in pools of loss
And moments of regret
And moments find eternities and envy
Their longevity
And stew and steep in bitter tea
And gladly pay the cost
The price was high
As steep as dreams, which fall from pedestals
Propped up too high, on top of things
Which tumble down and then crush me
And cluttered, scattered, dropped off in the corner
Cowering, shamefully
Knowing that he bet high
For free
Gambling for eternity
And pocketing only moments