How many missing sons and daughters
buried with tears and a folded cloth
dead pride of a nation
how many banners raised in triumph
lowered to half mast by the grieving
in the name of patriotism's flag
a highly dangerous piece of rag

Take the mother night
Wrap her in glorious dawn
To birth a new day

Sweet undercover night
silence has wrapped the world
in a velvet bag
so soft and heavy
it drinks the light
and makes a cocktail
of the moon and stars

The definition of a maniac
someone who shares
the same locked wardrobe of dark thoughts
that you do
but they found the key
tried them on for size
and wear them to dance in the streets

Oh Vincent
if only you had known
the world would one day marvel
at your sunflowers
and those waving fields of grain
you left us
but they will remain
a part of you
the beating heart of you
the art of you
for your success was unforeseen
you left us
with what might have been

Some cold black coffee
A biscuit on the carpet
Death lets himself out

Grief is an empty place
a dark and silent painful space
with the hardest plastic chair
you wait until a flicker of light
shines under a door
you never knew was there