One Life, In A Year Poem by Windsor Guadalupe Jr

One day, you will be like me,

Alone in a room,

Barren inside and out,

Eyes lost like shadows

Lurking in the impasse

Lurching like a pendulum,

In a routine that drains what zeal

And zest for existence

You have

In the coarse palms of your hands

And the city, the winch between

The strands of your hair.

One morning, you will wake up like me,

Heavy with breaths, respiration

Seemed like threats of annihilation

I surmise you’d be the same,

One morning, With savvy words

You will wake up like me,

The man left,

Desolated, a punctured car

In a dead garage of filth and bereavement

Sleeping like a child,

Never to wake up tomorrow.

One night, you will sleep like me,

Writhing endlessly,

Like waves in a sea

Sending sand dunes back to their mothers

Quelling the veracity behind forever,

With your breath smelling like burning embers,

I promise you this

One night, you will sleep like me.

And in one more life,

You will look for me,

I am presumptuous

Like a man in his golden toes,

Heartless, no woes

In his mind,

Only jittering bugs and cicadas

Slumbering like fools,

With simpers in their sleep,

Bruxism, gnashing teeth

And they annoy you in your sleep,

I promise you this

The turbulent times of mine,

You will experience it.

The empathetic self,

Nonetheless, would carry you

Only if you say,

That things are not good in this way,

In this manner, where you falter

Toppling down like strongholds and castles

Flabbergasted, like a king robbed of his crown,

And a queen, with her name forgotten within the town

I will save you, beyond despair

Be patient, salvation is under repair

And then if it shall commence,

We shall dine, eat éclair

Sleep on a bed underneath the buoying chandeliers

And we would entrap aeons in our dreams.

Yet, this is a dream.

This will not happen.

I know you to well.