where once every day was new
now the photograph is torn
the edges are flawed
and although it is still adored
it is creased and clearly beyond total repair

i almost fell asleep in the street
and i have almost lost the fight
but i would win you know
if only i could find my feet

i feel the rain all the time
it’s almost as if it is my own
everyone else feels the summer
yet me, i can only feel rain

you get to me
live outside yourself
but,
somehow become resident in my head

the reflection of sadness –
is never missed
it is always there
it is the haunting –
in a persons stare

some parents are able to give real emotion
yet some are made of whiskey and coke
and in all the childhood commotion
some parents become a poorly executed joke