Reservations

Reservations

by Todd Dias

I went to school

with the white trash

and bourgeoisie alike,

scorned by the cool

whose ideals clash

and drive impaling spikes.

My only hope,

turning inwards,

helped to cope,

but pushed me forward

toward the very thing

from which I wished to hide.

I have received love and praise

from four generations,

but all I see

in self-conscious gaze

is a man of reservation.

Fear; the foil to my strengths.

Loneliness; the wall I hide behind.

Love; the wanted and the feared.

Courage; the strength I have inside