Walking along the familiar tiles with my head hanging low
Counting every scrape and deformed shape even though I already have the pattern memorized.
I know the drill as if it was tattooed on my heart but the thing you don't know is that a piece of it's missing.
The heart is a muscle and when muscles break down they're repaired or end up replaced.
But this adaption happens only at rest, so tell me how can I be resting when my mind roller coasters wondering when you'll leave next.
They say fathers are to protect and love
But in my magic kingdom the princess and Queen was left without a king.
Just as I was left to grow up on my own for my poor mother lied in bed with ibuprofen running through her elastic blood vessels that transport blood but why can't they transfer happiness and hope, for that's the only medicine she needs in reality.
Walking along the tiles which appear dangerously familiar.
Counting every scrape and deformed shape
With my head holding high
I see him... The one man who was there but never there, the one man who disappeared like a cookie on a plate, the one man who was merely ever there.....but he opened his arms expecting a big welcome to end up disappointed with the one question a 7 year old should never ask.
"Where were you when I needed you"?