Bilbo's broing cousin

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Poetry  |  House: Booksie Classic
It's pretty sad how reality can drain us of so much.

Submitted: March 25, 2013

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Submitted: March 25, 2013

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  Everyday’s an adventure. As a kid, I took that in the most literal sense. I believed that at seven years old, I could climb Everest and save the princess all before my macaroni and cheese dinner. That the sky was too much of a limit and I could fly through eternity as the man who couldn’t be brought down. Before 3rd grade, I had  already  been  around the world twice and was  packing  my  favorite  Sponebob  shirt to go with me for a third. Then suddenly, as if a thousand pound boulder had been chained to my leg, I stopped dreaming. Stopped  believing. The adventures began to wash away behind wave after wave in an ocean that I could no longer sail.  In the moment when I realized that only idiots believed in adventures and romantic endings. That riding away in the sunset meant the end of the movie and there was nothing left but the boring credits. Well here’s the funny thing. I now love watching the credits.  

 

  When do we become Bilbo’s boring cousin? The one who dare not exit the safety of his hole to walk across the valley of the shadow of death. Reality stings like a bullet, but it takes a remarkable man to enjoy life despite it’s dangers. Live with the curiosity of a child, the passion of an artist, the wisdom of a sage, and the honor of a king.

 

 


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