Max Cassano

The team is anxious,
The game will be upon them.
Will they be victors?

The folding doors open
I see a cluttered space
My things are scattered on the floor.
Old school folders,
Toys from long ago
The light turns off
I close the door
And leave the mess
For another day.

Alone in vermont,
Only night approaches me.
How will i exscape?

His head is pounding
The noise grows every day
He begs it to stop

Arguments and Fights
Needing a Resolution
Let It Rest for Now

Ahead in the clearing
The deer are grazing
Unaware of the surrounding dangers
A small sound is heard
In confusion the deer scatter
One is ldft behind
A spear in its side
The indian moves towards the owunded
A knife in his hand
Ending the deers life
In one movement
He is satisfied

Creaking walls,
Marble staircase,
Giant chandeliers,
A graveyard out back.
Ghosts screaming out,
Night coming,
Running scared.
Will I escape?

New Powers

Newfound powers,
Exploring possibilities
Wildness taking over

Power unimaginable
Optimal performance
Wise decisions
Enhanced senses
Recognizing enemies
Seeming to understand

Max Cassano

Box In The Attic

There is a box in the attic,
Full of old memories.
Ones past,
And their ancestors past,
Together at last.
All of these memories,
Reminders,
To be opened when one forgets.
Or to be opened,
By someone new.
A passing stranger,
Or a guest.
To some an old box,
But to others,
An ancient chest of memories.

New Expectations
Forming Like Dew After Night
Clouding My Calm Mind