Seventeen

Poem about the feelings associated with the "first time"

Until the day comes
When I drop this
Burdened life filled drum

I will remain
Silent with not love
To run

Across the street
And up the stairs
To the bed

With no cares
Entangled
In a grip of her

Death seems to be
Just a memory
Of life that was once

Lived in celebration
And not defeat
Now her Son

Rises in the east
And sets upon
My chest

I can't breath
This hatred of air
And I suffocate

Entombing my head
Within a pillow
Filled with feathers

Broken in laughter
And slept in naked
Until the Son rose

I laid across
Her eternal flower
I struck my pose