Wednesday, December 14, 2005

there's always a fire and some way to put it out

A tidal wave has been bursting through
shoddy seam work sewn in haste
and I just today learned how to really cry

Not for, not at all
for many a tortured soul
often weeps itself away
or wallows in the gray
behind their own swollen eyes

I cry for a man I loved,
the one you killed
the man I know you are now,
I can’t even look at
so I’ll sign these papers
and you leave
while I turn away

I cry for my mothers tears
the ones she crys for her mother
not for loss or death
but for the memories

I cry for my brother
on the front step
waiting with me
when that man forgot about him

I cry for that man
for all the regrets in his life
how he feels when the people laugh and enjoy his food
how he suffers with himself

I cry for the one who married into all of this
how he tries so hard
his monotonous mask
and ignorance

I cry for the kitten
with the terribly blue eyes
the one that runs away
the one I left behind

I cry for the baby
and the babies now
the world they’ll live in
and a hope
that they wont ignore it

I don’t cry for myself anymore
or what I couldn’t mend
or the booze or novocain
the numbness
or the pain in my head
and the scars on my heart

I cry for the falling stars no one sees

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