The only quietude he’d ever known Was throwing papers in the morning dark; As there, in dawning silence he, alone, Would pedal past the edges of the park. Each paper that he’d throw would, in an arc, Land gracefully upon a greening lawn. The contrast to his home life was so stark, Where all was …
Continue reading "Paperboy"
There’s no one more alive, absorbed – At least, that’s known to me – As when a child is drawing; Pure creativity Their line and color choices Are not convention’s slave: They draw because they want to And don’t have to behave
The flawless decor of the rich Can keep their sleeping kids in style; But all of that won’t give kids warmth Or make the moments worth the while That they might spend with parents who Spend all their lives on margin’s call: While love is riches, strange to say Mere riches are not love At …
Continue reading "Haute Decor"
she never knew true love
You’re just a dad for show That’s all you ever effing were: Pretending that you care So much about both him and her No you cannot be bothered When they each need you to be you — But put on some performance when You think People Can see you
All together...
It's easy to forget.
Ah, the first time you're able to do something...
That cover and warm.