Hunger

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Pretend you are the golden child. Reach out your hand for the goblet; taste the love and pleasure that the chosen ones drink; lean back in your chair of velvet; dance to the harp of all the songs they wrote for you; and rest your head on the soft pillow of adulation to dream of the child you were, the one staring in the window at the banquet.

 

 

In your dream you will be cold; and though you pull your blanket around you, you will never find warmth. Hunger will be a crow in your belly with your heart in its beak.

 

 

The dream will last a lifetime. When you awake, pretend you are still the golden child you saw inside the window.

 

 

26 thoughts on “Hunger

  1. to know what it is to be a golden child is an alien idea
    this is haunting, and echoes a deep sadness, and yet, it also simply paints a picture.
    very nicely done … as is often the case, what you don’t say is as important as what you do

    p.s. I recently set my blog to PRIVATE. If you have not received an invitation to view my blog, you can send an email to ntexas99 at yahoo dot com, and I’ll send an invitation.. thx

  2. “It’s life’s illusions I recall. I really don’t know life, at all” From the song “Both Sides Now” written by Joni MItchell and sung beautifully by Judy Collins, came immediately to mind, from your superb post. Very nice indeed.

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