When our strands of DNA finally split apart, into the millions of atoms that created them,
We might return home to wherever the place is that fathered us when we were so young
And sheltered us from the weather that sent drafts down our throats, where disease stemmed
and rockets of filth and foulness blackened your eyes and ate out the roots of your tongue
My mother, she took you in when the sky was dark, and the streets froze your grimy feet
We put blankets around your shoulders, that made your hollow cheekbones stick out
We fed you warm ham soup filled with one large bone and twenty carrots and beans
When the physician examined you, you were told you had scurvy, and a bad case of gout
So when the spring came again, you found yourself barely able to walk upright
I called you a Neanderthal, and hurt blossomed out of the corners of your eyes like flowers
But when the wind blew, it knocked you over, and you fell to your knees, in the dead of night
You didn't cry like an ordinary man, even when i dehumanized you, and leeched you of your power
But when death saw you degenerate, he said whither the way, and on swift wings he flew
I took your body, still warm in my bed, and left you where that river ran, out back
I looked to the door, on the side of my cottage, every time the West wind blew
I thought maybe i saw you once or twice, but no, that was a shadow, i don't think you'll ever be back
