The Fool Returning Home

By Charles Sapp II

The fool as mentioned before arising from ignorance,
achieving bliss that comes from aimlessly living.
I play the fool today as Time entices me something different.
Humble as the hand that begs with pride stuffed in pockets
with lint as dreams, beneath fingernails
digging and pursuing the forgotten.

The fool continuously dreams of stars
at their tranquil, peaceful and serene states
this is far from their violent, enigmatic, and cataclysmic character.
These are theirs and my truths determined by fate.

Raining their nutrients down to Earth as cosmic dust,
dirty and filthy
covered in Time’s defecation.
All I can do is wait,
nearing the end of my mission,
incomplete;
yet I’ve made way through the progression
arriving at my final destination;
the final stage of this venture.
Letting go of doubts and never returning to the sacrifices,
less than the experience and growth attained.

The fool is the one, who fears to return home,
not the one who relinquishes their abilities to existence
leading back to the nurture of love; yet
anxiety tremors through chest cavities
and heart rate escalates to a dangerous state
when thinking about reuniting with old habits and redundancy
settling with monotonous patterns.

Shuffling feet,
drudgingly as dead man walking
with suitcases in hand
returning to abandoned feelings and escape from uneventful fate.
The familiar feel of family and their hate,
returning is not an option
as there is no heart to bury emotions of invisible disdain.

The fool
is the one who repels
and dwells on grandeur paranoia
of being deemed a failure
and returning home as a disabled soldier.