101107
Ive got this late night
Search warrant
Fueled by tea
Dizzying thoughts
A child stares at me
From the steam
PG Tips - slow slips
The child: blue eyed,
Blonde haired,
Sad, confused, lost
I know him well
His hidden tears
The way he will declare
War on friends, family,
Then when no one is left:
Himself.
I know how he shakes
With booming emotions
Trapped and bottle necking
Into a sweet therapeutic addiction
I know how he will search
Through canvases
Crowds, love, drugs,
Religion, fights, women,
Fashion, ego, hate—
Trying to find himself
Where he left off
So many years ago
I know how he can’t
Conjure up the words
Allowing him freedom
I know how he analyzes
His every footstep
His every utterance
His every thought
I know how he cries
I know how he will
Forget how to cry,
How to feel, how to love,
How to express anything
Besides bipolar pendulum
Swayings between negative
And overwhelming positive
I know how he won’t
Be able to accept
Who he is until
He is stuck play acting.
Most of all,
I know how he will be up late
With a warm cup of tea
Staring through the steam
At things that aren’t really there.
Oh, I know these things all to well
If only I could spare him
If only.
© Liam Elliott 2007. All Rights Reserved.
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