Now I remember why I don't like it here.
It gets lonely now that I'm different.
I stare through the kitchen door to the wide
open field during the prayer before dinner
and I stare at the tv as you watch;
I stare into the traps of wasted time,
wondering if you would give up
your television shows to see me. You
told me you wouldn't visit me,
wherever I go. You told me I better be careful
because despite my new life, I was
"raised right" but that alliteration
is exhausting because now I
realize that in the latter half of my life,
I haven't been raised--I've been pushed,
stifled, crammed, smothered
into your box, and it wasn't 'right'
because the only right is something
we're both defending. Something we say
we're defending, but we're defending pride;
you're defending your Box-God, I'm defending
the God of the wide open field that
feels the loneliness of my thoughts
as you finish the prayer with
"Amen".