Dad and mum
are at it again
At times
like this I’d run far away until I no longer feel am the one to blame
There are
days I feel lost as they fight themselves again and again
Only then do
I let the magical things into my little game
The game I
play when I am far away, away from strife, away from loss and what some have
come to call the cross
The cross of
what? I ask myself as I trudge across miles of empty space deep in thought
Then do the
multicolored birds come
They sing,
speaking in words I cannot comprehend0
Words that
take me high and do not allow me to descend
Words that
make me miss the weekend when dad and mum will shout until my skin tingles and
I hear the neighbors say these people are wicked
It
embarrasses me __ but what else could this be likened
To
The words
‘good grief’ never felt so apt and true.
While I
navigate the heavens filled with magic and I no longer hear the fights and the
abuse. I know in my heart I’ve found what the heavens know is true…. And that’s
you.
Peace,
tranquility and the abundance owned by little but a few.
