every screaming siren i think of you,
the pictures are turning rusty at the edges,
worn with the coming of the years,
but they make your face appear softer
they make your eyes glassy with understanding
you only have one heart but it's
times like these that i am afraid all it is
filled with is cigarette smoke and hatred
towards his eyes
but you have found the love within
your children and the one thing that is
keeping you chained down to the center
of the earth is not your sanity,
it is only the hope in which you carry within
your fist, the tension within your walking feet,
that someday they will return all that has
been taken away from you,
all that has left you heavy and weighted down
with the sighing of waking up to
another empty day
priceless and smudged at the corners,
*who would have known that you held the
capacity to love them like they
wanted you to