momma

MOMMA YOU HEARD ME CRYING LAST NIGHT WHILE I LAY IN MY BED
I HEARD NO WORDS OF COMFORT ONLY SILENCE INSTEAD
MOMMA HOW OLD WILL I HAVE TO BE BEFORE YOU’LL LISTEN TO ME
MOMMA WHEN WILL YOU OPEN YOUR EYES, AND FINALLY REALIZE……THE PAIN I AM IN
IT’S NOT SOMETHING THAT WILL GO AWAY
I LIVE WITH THIS FEELING EVERY DAY
MOMMA HOW MANY TIMES WILL YOU TURN YOUR HEAD AND JUST LOOK THE OTHER WAY
PRETENDING THAT NOTHING CHANGED, THAT I’M THE SAME
NO MATTER WHAT I SAY
MOMMA HOW MANY TEARS WILL I HAVE TO SHED
BEFORE YOU WILL LIFT YOUR HEAD,
AND ACKNOWLEDGE THE PAIN I FEEL
WILL YOU WAIT…………..UNTIL IT’S TOO LATE
WHEN MY BODY LAY COLD AND STILL
MOMMA YOU SAY THAT I’M TO YOUNG TO FEEL THE WAY I DO
HOW OLD DO YOU HAVE TO BE FOR YOUR HEART TO BREAK INTO
MOMMA HOW OLD DO I HAVE TO BE
BEFORE YOU TAKE ME SERIOUSLY
MOMMA THE PAIN HAS BECOME TO GREAT
THIS SUFFERING I CAN NO LONGER TAKE
THE ONLY ANSWER THAT I COULD FIND
WAS TO LEAVE THIS COLD WORLD OF MIND
MOMMA EVERY TIME I TRIED TO TALK TO YOU, YOU SAID WAIT UNTIL YOU’RE BIGGER
I KNOW NOW HOW TO STOP THE PAIN
I JUST PULL THE TRIGGER
MOMMA TELL THE OTHERS GOODBYE
AND MOMMA PLEASE TRY NOT TO CRY
THE PAIN DID LEAVE TODAY
AND TO THINK ALL IT TOOK WAS FOR YOU TO TURN AWAY
 

time less thoughts

Some times in life you will come to a place that is so unfamiliar, so uncomfortable, to memories it’s a dreadful place filled with misery, to a life that’s ended it’s never at peace. To a restless Soul that was sold for gold to change a straw man’s destiny and in exchange it returns agony. For what Breath took in as Truth, Toughs repeats as deceit. From what Eye's saw as Friend, Ears hears only voices of Enemies.  Often Thought   contemplates on Action’s past mistakes, and reason withholds the knowledge of what purpose buried inside of us. It’s not until we’re at this place that hate has power enough to replace our Trials for Lessons, and our Sins with Blessings. But only if we let the Darkness night becomes our brightest day.  Count our fleeing monuments as if time doesn’t own shit. Fill those empty spaces with joy filled faces. Invoke the reflection in the Mirror to reveal the One that was Deor[1]to us.

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[1] Deor" (or "The Lament of Deor") is an Old English poem found in the late 10th century collection^[1] the Exeter Book