Cry First...

Cry First

I never sought this woeful existence
This futile endeavor of vain persistence
Safe and secure in my prior autistic night
Sensory driven through touch, taste and sight
The simple joy of breath and warm sunlight
A heart beating in my chest with all its might
The soft lush panorama of flowers in rows
The silky caress of grasses on naked toes
Attuned to the cacophony I could hear it
Animals and trees spoke in spirit
Then came those to lead me astray
Down roads of greed and hunger and need
Stabbed by fears of the price to pay
I recoiled in distrust and turned away
Only to find I could no longer reach
That which I lost in society's breach
So I hardened myself and cut out devotion
Existing in a state devoid of emotion
I struggled along the back roads through my fears
After countless years of turbulence and tears
Realizing that in order to live one must die
In order to laugh once more, one must first cry.

Christopher Cole