Climb the highest mountain, punch the face of god

Do It For The Children

I wonder what they fill
Their little heads with,
When they sleep at night?
I wonder, more so, if I can
Save them, the way I save thought
And spirits from delving into the
Lower levels of insanity.
Can I grasp their hands,
Feel their fingers and solemnness
Gliding around like
Melancholy eels in murky water?
I yearn to be a saint to their sadness,
To pick them up when
Misery hovers around them.
Can I be the hero, or am I
As distressed as they?

3-23-11


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Do It For The Children

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