The shades of colors hidden with in the eyes.
A dreaming brush that sits and awaits the image...
Don't engage
Walk away...
Waking up to the sweet sensations
of buttered Belgian waffles...
I called my mother last night
And she was not feeling well...
Everyone will tell you,
It was not a mistake...
When death has stricken all the joy of day
And bled it out in red and golden hue...
A father of three
I shoulder responsibilities...
Dad's heavy arm around
My neck, lovingly...
You are only a month old
so you wont understand right now...
I can hear you when you wake up in the morning...
I can hear you call my name...
The Hawk,
Closed off...
Down to my last bit of strength
Walk out of work in sobbing tears...