Time ticks
The world spins
But nothing
Ever
Changes

I went to my eye doctor
And told him I was unstable.
He gawked at me from across the table
Thankfully he tested me
For otherwise I couldn't see
The light in life
Or colours of the trees.
You see, my broken heart was very unkind
Causing me to go colourblind

An empty frame which you call home
Is not the place you want to go.
You arrive because there is no better offer
And cry at night for a loving father.

"I'm better now"
I laugh and say
Does it really matter anyway?
No one understands
The broken mirrors
Sometimes I want
To disappear
Follow me into
The backyard garden
Lay me down
On silk and cotton
Hold my hand
And say goodbye
This is my final lullaby.

Amongst the city
Dreams come bursting alive
Swallowing children

Standing far out at sea
A wave of sadness crashes over me
Isolated, worried, very uncertain
My fate lays behind an unknown curtain.
Wondering how my life will end
Will I ever be home again?

Little Wendy Warson wore her hair down everyday
She never wore hats or hair clips or even burets.
I would beg little Wendy "can I please braid your hair?"
Always resulting in a daring death glare.
On Tuesday, Wendy wore her hair in a bun.
She even looked so pretty, no one noticed her gun.