Books
Poetry/Lyrics
Essays
Mother
My pearl eyes stare at the sky.
Don't want to live.
Don't want to die.
I'm not so much a statue,
as a piece of rotten fruit.
The sky is dead, like David.
His brother wears a white suit.
Help me, for I'm drowning
in the air of a normal day.
My hair is weeping softly.
My soul is going grey.
No life guard can save me.
No air flows today.
No skin feels no temperature.
No future guides a way.
Help me, for I'm drowning,
although I see the shore.
A silent statue drowning
alone inside a shell.
David smiles and giggles
from beyond his tiny grave,
where I put his fragile corpse
because I lacked the will to care
for a child with down's.
So I drown.
|
