Sunday, January 4, 2009


slowly tears patter
onto your sweet face
memorize as blood stained
fingers longingly trace
an etching of you
amateur engraving
desperate attempt at saving
delicately dabbing at your sores
evidence of traveling through
your own little war..for nothing
you are too still
as I dress you
you'd wriggle-escape
from nappy time soon
and your hands
crafted for guitar
to play in the band
with your brother
fingers soft as tiny petals
on the most feathery flower
and I have to leave you soon
I don,t even have 1 hour

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