You Belong Somewhere

To someone I love who is not likely to be reading this at any given point.

I know you don’t like to listen to a man preaching. From time to time you have to listen to yourself preach, though.

You sing on your own and you think you don’t belong.
Think again.
I know you belong somewhere, somewhere.
I know you belong somewhere.

That under this sky, there’s a little white castle in the horizon where you’ll be happy. It’s not heaven, I know you don’t believe in it, and neither do I.
But here.

In your only fifty years of solitude, you know you have found happiness. You sound as bitter as sugarless sugar. And I can listen to you like this for hours and hours.

You say, there’s no hope in my generation, there is no hope in any generation, to understand, to feel, to walk in downtown Cairo barefoot and hug the street.
Remember your words, M., remember your words.

Consider this,
If you can make me laugh, and I can’t make you smile. It’s only because my sense of humor is lame and you know it.
You’re the actor on his stage.
I have always been the audience. Expect no joke of me, I am senseless but I will listen.
To your bitterness of fifty years.

I only hoped you’d listen to my breath. And realize. That when they’re all gone, in you, there’s still life.

You belong Somewhere.