I write through my tears, as the emptiness fades into oblivion.
Working so hard being ever so diligent and for what?!
What shall it profit a man?
The cold blustery eve gives way to an islolated space, a place.
The impish grin continues again and again.
Attempting to torment with its malicious smile.
Silver granite relationship. Cold, smooth and sharp.
A mineral at best. Wanting to smash it against my car windows.
Discerning the edge of night.
Again an empty cold space, music ripped from my arms, from my heart.
Oh baby don't you ever grow up. "Don't you ever grow up!"
I have become the carrier, the messenger, the chauffeur, arranging one bare floor to another.
Spun golden wisps of hair. Running in the meadows.
Sunlight gleaming against her young complexion, her tiny hands.
Now the sacreligious music blares. An anti-sentiment to my woes. My cares.
Wanting to be proud, to relish to shine. Yet in this time she is taken from mine.
Living a stance of hard and trodden soil.
Silver wisps of gray hair and somewhat wrinkled hands. Tarry.
Grasping thin air.
Cold thin blustery chapped air.
Yet I see her dance . From a glance. Across the room.
Of empty forgotten unbearable smiles.
Childlike play and forgotten woes.
Oh to see her dance in pajamas across the room. Once Again.
Fluffy sparkly and pink.