When I was a young boy
living in that cul-de-sac on Fairway Road,
I used to pretend that I had an underground base
(accessible from my own yard, of course)
and could call upon my own private army.
I always had some grand mission to accomplish,
and at the end of it,
I always had somewhere to come back home to.
I was a real loner
as a kid.
I guess that’s why
I got so used to
using my imagination.
(Is it any wonder
that I’d cry myself to sleep
if I hadn’t seen
my brother in a while?)