If the sun broke my heart,
Would it shine on in?
Would my splintering fragments
Fray like a hand tied bushel?
Could you bare to see the day
Which evanescent hot rays
Left sour marks upon my boiling skin?
Scouring pure innocence
With marks of the future.
Tag: marks
Mother (day 355)
Your honesty is overwhelming when you walk away like that
Here I am pouting, you talk on your phone
Clearly I’m demanding attention from you, mom
Clearly you’re not interested, lame bastard I am
These marks on my being will forever be scarred
I cannot forget them, ingrained in my conscience
I will grow old and remember with contempt and disdain
Perhaps not this moment, but many like it will come
Mother, please help me
I need your kind patience
Help me to find it
What will make me a man
Then in my pastime
When idle and old
I’ll remember you fondly
As a good mother should be