When I dwell on what’s coming
to my little boys
I go down.
I go down.
I go all the way down
to the silent, still chasm, my heart.

When I linger there long
There the sorrow, it dwells,
where it wallows and swells
then I swallow then heave,
wipe my face on my sleeve.

"All the things that they’ll miss"
Clench my face in a fist,
bleeding tears, wet and warm
as a tropical storm.
They run down.
Deluge down.
They go all the way down,
searing my wet, whiskered skin.

And the missed milestones mock,
hurt me, sink like a rock.
They're all wrapped 'round my head
with guilt, anger and lead.
Weigh me down.
Tie me down.
I go all the way down,
All alone, a black bubble my mind

And it's often I find,
that I find myself there,
meet the eye of despair,
the five-hundred-yard stare
So alone,
I go down.
I go all the way down
I go all the way down to no     end.