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photo by Toni
Frissell ©
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mama, I don't want to remember the end of the world
mama, the bright sky is blinding me
does this world of ours
forsake our gift of sight
or is everything a come on
a grab hold and wrestle
tight to pieces of forever
we pour hope into concrete
putting barriers between
our limbs and the street
we can funnel the distance
broken from our dreams
the siphoned, the quick glanced
the what ifs, rung as bells
oscillation blooms telling us
to keep thinking in
to keep thinking out
head leaned against
the morning commute
someday when we grow up too
every day here mama
I am remanded to
another place
they've piled words
another life sentence
left to unscramble
mama, what do we mean to each other
are we mere forms to fill
have we a need for empty spaces
in order to be completed
it sure feels this way
mama, sometimes
I just want you
to hold me, please
like you used to
when all I had to do
was look upon you
to know what love was
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