Let Me Be Poem by Hunter James

They told me the only way to go was up, as they crowded and smiled. ' he has a real gift' one would sing. ' And just 13' followed the choir. My fingers were callused and achy though my self esteem was high and my cheeks were red and it made me feel warm. They said, I was on a sure path to success. They said it so many times I almost believed them. In fact I was sure of it. It was the only truth I knew. They marched into my fragile beliefs and told me the most perfect lie anyone had told me.
Them and their sharp department store odours and leather handbags. The beer breathe and wrinkled skin and endless ' trust me I know what I'm talking about I've lived 66 years and never seen no one like you'
They told me the only way to go was up.
They were wrong. Going up is unheard of in my business, being 13 you really don't know to much about going down, you don't really believe in such a thing. Somewhere , they forgot to mention life. They forgot to mention death. They forgot a lot, or maybe they just didn’t know. Maybe we live in two different worlds them and I. Talent is talent to them, and to me. It just hangs on my shoulders, it says ' Nothing worse than wasted potential.' and I say ' shut up' and drink a beer secretly wishing I had the will to follow it through.
Its hard to get it through their heads, I just want to lounge. I want to be a nobody. I don’t want to go up. ' oh but you do son' they say.
Oh but I don’t.
I'm tired.

Let me be and pass the bong.