Tuesday, December 30, 2008

Disconnected

He moves and yet you still will never know
the way my soul will stretch too far to break
into an open grave for as he grows
he's dying to reclaim a past mistake
Come here! Oh, if you could you'd hear his voice
a soft and loving coo from deep within
But realize he'll never have the choice
to stay inside the place where it begins;
The dream of life and love as it should be
encapsulates closed flutters of his lids
The hope for anti-animosity
will shed itself from what his hands can give
He sleeps now, quietly so far to go
And while he waits, you still will never know

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