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I watch the children playing,
See them dancing in the yard.
Preserve the words they`re saying,
Like a fancy Christmas card.
The moments that betray them
Are the moments caught off guard;
Yet the dragons cannot slay them,
Not these children of the ward.
I hear their mothers calling
As they empty out the yard,
Echoing their footsteps,
Like bells tolling in my heart.
I gaze upon the portrait
Of my brother who`s been gone:
Time itself cannot prorate
The memory and the song.
To see you I would kiss you;
And give hugs until you groan.
Mama`s off to find you,
I must go it all alone -
I`ve been across some borders,
To describe my private hell;
In deep and shallow waters,
Like a bucket in a well.
Each story has an anchor;
Yes I dragged mine through the bay;
I was lucky just to find her,
Fortunate she went my way.
The sun is like a prism:
See it straining through the glass.
My mind`s not like a prison;
I`m no prisoner to the past.
There`s a beauty in the foment,
And a rage to top the crest;
Got to have myself a moment,
So I`m ready for the rest. |