How Do You Feel About This?

“The Stories of our Youth”

From their windows, all the young girls
see midnight’s white confetti
when it’s flung against the sky
like pebbles down a well.
It is here they make their wishes, and
dream dreams of raising children;
they reach their fingers towards
the heavens as if to touch a tiny face.

In the alleys, all the young boys
hurl insults at each other
and put on faces like their fathers
as they learn to act like men.
It is here that their reflections
will age in dirty puddles;
they stretch their hands out to
the ladies who forgot about the stars.