i listen to the birds with there morning song
it warms the heart in me as i sing along
singing loud and clear bringing in the morn
happy as can be welcoming the dawn

singing all together to there morning tune
i sit there and listen as they begin to croon
singing all in unison as they sing away
singing loud and clear on a brand new day

Downtown in dark ballroom;
Empty but for two;
Dressed for the prom unattended;
Sixteen, in love.
Forbidden, but desired.
Music on the phone.
Protective chin resting on
Gently tilting head.
Eyes shut feeling the moment.
Forbidden, but not forgotten.
Belonging and loved.
Their own personal prom.

if you talk
about it
they'll tell you
its just a case
of centring yourself
before
it builds up;
placing yourself
in the moment
and understanding
what cannot be changed

except
there is
no progression
no steady curve
it goes from
a carefully traced line
to a scratched
scrawling scribble
that tears
through leaf
after leaf
of paper
whether the message
is legible
or not

apparently
        its simple;
in that split second
between empathy
        and apathy
before the destruction
of everything
outweighs
the strength
of all
that has been
accomplished
i simply need
to breath deep
and
count
           to
                ten

i'm still waiting
to be told
what to do
when my count
reaches ten
and
i'm still
angry

l think they've laid me horizontal
for what they're calling a pre-frontal,

I also think that they're mistaken
because it ain't madness that I'm faking
I'm just as tired as can be and it has
nothing whatsoever to do with lunacy.

I've had a busy day doing little
and I've done little quite a lot,
there's still a lot of little to do,
but
I'll save that until tomorrow.