And when they tell you,
the fun has yet begun-
realize the words
have a home in sarcasm
and you will soon receive
a special invitation of callous
tongues and disapproving glares.
They hand to you in careless gesture
so you tip on the catch
and not the weight
of the passive advice.
You will tumble
over feet, hands, tongue
and happiness will shatter
into tiny slivers.
And it will be that moment,
you realize the fun
is the moment everyone else forgot
how to adapt, to change.
They swept up their dreams
to be tossed out with the leftovers.
This will be the moment,
you can change your hands
into dust pans to throw out your dreams,
or pick up the slivers
and fashion each dream into a new flower.
Pull them into a bouquet
and store them at your doorway
to show everyone
the fun had only begun.
Poetic Trials 