Friday, April 23, 2010


I never had a father who bothered about me.
We whisper words of wisdom; and shelter where we speak.
I never had a family that wanted me,
Never had a shoe to wear, or anyone to care;
I found my way through the uncertainty,
And laid my head on the floor.
Whispering words of wisdom,
I can barely speak anymore.
All the meanness of the dark,
And the shadows of the dawn,
My head I still hold it high,
When life is overdrawn.
The birds speak gently to the sky;
There is no one who hears.
We force ourselves to live our lives,
Without knowing why or where.
The planet is a memory, of spinning voices
And doubt,
We try to speak the words are bleak,
And I can’t scream or shout.
All the roads we walk upon,
And all the greed,
Are turned out in a whirlabout,
And we don’t say what we need.
I lay my head upon your shoulder,
And we walk on the grass.
I don’t think what we speak,
And the crowds are rolling fast.
I never had a father and he never had one, too,
The sky is molted; the volcanoes erupted;
In a field of blue.
He never said what he didn’t say,
And then he went away-
I look outside and stars collide,
And we are all OK.

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