I’ve got a little bird sleeping on my chest –

Breathing innocence,
Abandoned and prior pathos.

I’ve got a little bird sleeping on my chest –

Found, was her nest, but
Lost, was the feather who’d brought her.

I’ve got a little bird sleeping on my chest –

An ear nigh my heart,
And a heart I’d thought dead.

I’ve got a little bird sleeping on my chest –

And so, let the world be round,
And so let the world be perfect.

I’ve got a little bird sleeping on my chest.

An hour might as well be a year,
A life, a night lacking sleep,
Something sweet but just outta reach,
Or song, one line, that one line,
With memories sweeter than ice cream,
And crescendo akin to broken mirrors.

Long gone, would be the “clickety-clack,”
The coming and going of a train;
Meaning to stop, but only to pass you by,
Offering the slightest dust, hints to where
You should have been come ‘morrow;
Left would be an only, lonely to posit –

Why can the gulls go when I can’t?

I’d only been seconds,
But my son’s brow beat
Years.

I’d nearly cry come one –
Memory, “good-bye,”
Another memory –

Abandon and face never
Remembered, only buried,
My father’s back

That very day he’d left.
I’d only been seconds,
And my son smiled

The dividend away;
Tomorrow’d be there,
The mirror would be too

And what I’d actually seen
Was my reflection, the one,
He’d never know.

The fly on my finger says, “it’s gonna rain.”
So the spy ‘round the bend screams, “RUN!”

I try, but I step on a nail; therefore – I cease, I die,
And am born once more, Come the dead been before.

That’s when those days became a “pitter-patter,”
So let it sink, and I’m not so innocent anymore.

I’d blame the cat that crossed my path, it wasn’t black,
I’d blame the hat that drew her eye, but I wouldn’t;

I’d only run, flee, I’d heed the call of “Lawrence,”
So that bells could ring and wings be granted.

I feel oil burn my
Belly; If I could hug the
World, I'd never let go.

He’d only a shadow to dance with,
And this sundial of sorts
Could only count the loneliness;
Never once,
Could it cup the “empty.”

He’d known that momma was gone,
Daddy, only a sliver of the man ‘fore,
And his first steps were his own;
Never once,
Would the sky render sympathy.

He wanted the sea, to slouch, to sleep,
To wash upon shores, “away,”
But was awarded one sister and in abandon,
Never once,
Would he spot a star the same.