| Motherly Illness |
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| Written by Cynthia Smith |
| Thursday, 17 September 2009 11:47 |
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You, out of all beings Can truly understand how Boredom can slowly corrode the soul Gnaw at God’s prime work of Art – The body, and, towering over it, Its prodigious engine - your mind. You, who they so carefully destroyed Slowing down your swiftness Doping with fake comfort That ancient eagerness that Once befuddled them Replacing in your body The dangerous chemical composition Made an alchemy of fantastically incisive thoughts With dulling substances, oh those sleeping pills, Mother, why did you let them? But you still are the one who understands me I am still the one you want to protect Because you know what could happen to me If they knew we both hate exactly the same things. |
| Last Updated on Thursday, 17 September 2009 11:50 |
