Crayons mixed with cloud formations
dance upon a ceiling of chipped paint...
I dont need you to analyze
the phases of my dying child...
By forgetting the billions of stars
across the sky...
If soared beside a pearly cradled rose
therein a rattling joy; o' stillborn child...
I, along with your father
created your soul, it took...
A beach was created
From waves of tears long shed...
If only your words were falling leaves
How brightly my Autumn bonfires would burn...
I lied in bed all morning,
thinking about all the things...
I act, think later
have given in to bad choices...
Life was always uneasy.
Each time I tumbled down...
We sit here in silence
watching the crows fly high...
With time,
speaking becomes exhausting...