Sometimes broken homes,

show you the roads,

that didn’t get paved.

Or distant mothers,

who get closer as you age.

Maybe -, they realize 

That the time is limited, 

tomorrow isn’t promised.

When mothers die,

And fathers cease.




The time still moves,

the world still spins

some people starve – 

while. 

I am in my head

about what I said.







May 28th 2025

      

Back to Archive