Like Sunflowers, your presence is bright and warm.
Like Sunflowers, your love is soothing and sweet.
Like Sunflowers, your embrace is home.

Wheeled around in a pushchair,
an innocent child
stares out at the world
with a sticky-faced smile.
A day at the seaside
with ice-cream to eat;
how it melts in the sunshine
and drips on her seat.
“Oh no, look at Ellie!”
her mother exclaims;
“She needs her mouth wiping,
she’s covered in stains!”
But Ellie just giggles,
her small gooey hands
are now grasping her bib,
she cannot understand
that one day in the future,
a lifetime away,
she’ll be taken again
down along the same way,
for a day at the seaside
with ice-cream to eat;
it will melt in the sun
and drip down on her seat:
And she’ll need her mouth wiping,
again and again,
when she’s on medication
to ward off the pain;
staring out at the world
with a bland vacant smile,
pushed around in a wheelchair,
an innocent child.

The world sometimes to me
Seems like a kitchen sink
With problem dishes piled high to the rim

Clogging up the drain
In the name of placing blame
With no one willing to wash them

Where soon enough we find
We've left the crust to dry
With the ***** secrets that our dishes have

With no way to rinse
And even if we did
There still would be the lingering stench

Leaving them there
Year after year
No one willing to roll up their sleeves

And lend a helping hand
To clean up the mess of man
We've all made in the world's kitchen sink