Mother, I can't sleep
I fear the lightening is getting darker
In a cold lonely determined whisper
My mother's voice thundered
"Pleasures of life
Are measured by strife"
And yet my chest
Has packed nothing to melt
The chocolate I'd wife

Mother, I am worried
Ashamed to say I am afraid
Of each waving Moon and it's dawn
Unable to man-sprout beyond
Emptiness, doors,
Houses: kids, streets: beggers, towns: thieves, Streams: chiefs, rivers: Kings
And cities; gods in wars that pulled us apart

It's too much strife
To make a child
That's too much Life
To break a man

Cc

Good write

666