moss

the theatre was dying,
and every child ignored me.
i wasn't what they came to see:
a man breathing desperately,
trying to find the light
in just another empty night.

you could smell it in the air:
old men going nowhere
and living out their final dream
played out on a movie screen.

and i lost myself today
while i watched the children play.
they have everything they need
while i can only sit and plead

to young flesh sweating
in a room full of loss
as insecurity grows
upon my skin like moss.