Next Page Ink

Two Chris Cross Paths 

By Christian Wills

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Yesterday you were my Saturday morning cartoon. Today, you’re the elevator music that fills my background. Remembering the times you played in the back of my mind, yet I can barely remember the words you used to sing. Foreign to the beat of your drum, how we walked, skipped, flew, far away from this world. Two kids acting as vigilantes. Our

superhero days are now retired and long-gone. Capes replaced with

college textbooks that can’t save the memories of a friend. You and I,

baptized as Christian, identified by this religion, but Christ! I’m not sure

who you are anymore... Even if I caught wind of your new show, you’re

next airing couldn’t bring back the reruns that have escaped my programming.