Sometimes I feel like a motherless child.
The righteousness can’t overcome the raw
Feeling of defeat.
Somewhere out in the ocean, there sinks a man
With only a family as the stitches at his seams.
But I am not him.
The righteousness can’t overcome the raw
Feeling of defeat.
Somewhere out in the ocean, there sinks a man
With only a family as the stitches at his seams.
But I am not him.
Soft like a plank of pine in a stack
Ready to be ripped down
I await a thin exposure.
This man I know has taken me in
Inside his home, a small cube filled with his memory.
But he erases himself over and over again until he can’t remember.