"Those Broken Sunsets"

A Poem by PoeT4994

Wanted to relate "Have you ever watched sunsets die." To my mom. And here you go.

Have you ever watched a sunset die?
Bleeding into the background like minstrel reminders of the pain.
Skylines hocked up on drugs and alcohol wavering oh so vigorously.
My mother can sometimes be caught refracted through the rear view mirror of a pick-up truck as it drives away from the coast.
Fading into the re-birthed night.
Something like a shadow.
Only a little more cared about.
Every day she calls, hoping to hear something new.
Hoping to hear something life changing.
She doesn't.
She visits every so often.
Hoping to see hope.
Hoping to stumble across a meaningful difference.
She doesn't.
It's the same repetition of monotonous structures built around schedules.
Refreshed every once in a while with a batch of worse than normal negativity.
She tries, so hard, to smile like the stars she's forgotten about.
She wants, so bad, to jump start her life to a new speed.
She cries, so often, about the way it played out.
She dreams, every once in a while, about broken sunsets.
Mom, it's OK.
You can smile.
Your son is happy.
You want me, so bad, to raise into the sky to bring that brightness back to your day.
Mom, I've been here the whole time.
You just have to be paying attention so you don't miss when I come back around.
Your life has it's moments, I know, but it's not as bad as it seems.
When a broken spirit is jamming into your bones, yea, it'll be a little hard to move.
And yea, it'll hurt.
But it doesn't mean you should stop.
I'm here, telling you to trudge.
To not try to make the ends meet, just let them collapse into each other on their own.
Then is when you can origami the corners of this world into happy faces.
It's OK to cry, but don't sulk.
Just water the roots you stem from and move to the next batch.
I know you read all the time, if you look close enough, I know you, like me, will find the sun rays stitched into the in-seams.
And it may seem, like I'm growing up too fast, but I assure you it's at the right pace.
If anything, I'm growing up too slow.
But, we all have some things we can fix about ourselves.
You know, sometimes I look into the distance, and I see the sun setting.
And I can see you dancing like I'm sure you did as a teenager.
Holding the clouds in your hands as you just let loose.
Cut the rug.
Break it down.
What ever the hell you called it in your day.
Motley Crue jamming in the back ground.
Jamming out of that jukebox you've crafted out of the wasted worries you've created.
Because you just want to make something beautiful out of the tragedies.
Mom, everything will be alright.
You don't have to try to be happy anymore.
You don't have to try to be a good mom.
Try to be a good person.
Try to be someone with money in their pocket.
Try to be someone you're not.
Try to be the person that's too strong to let it bother them.
Try not to be your mom.
You don't have to try not to be yourself.
Just be.
Mom, just be.
It all will work out, I promise you.
I know you've been through a lot.
But when I look into the Salvador Dali paintings hanging in your eyes, and I see the skyline melting.
And I see that sunset dying, it kills me inside.
But I want to let you know, that no matter what, while the moon looms and darkens your world, I will ride the shooting stars, carving wishes into their backs with a pen tip.
Because I know, that they will come true that way, and your son, will rise again, and set back into your eyes.