Pride n joy

There was once an instance where you told me
that pride comes in first from a natural ability
to hold one's head high, to have, to hold

I believed you. Pride was a walk with the head
in the clouds,
but this meant missing out on the little things

bottle caps on the ground, worms
the ruff of my boots on the pavement
the hour on my wristwatch

these are things I slowly started to notice
when my head couldn't hold any longer
an upright position

maybe it was you
maybe it was me,
perhaps it was both of us

that caused a look onto the land
not heads in the skies
possibly when I heard you talk about my shadow
your pride and joy, while my flesh remained
a toy for the words that escaped you when you slept.