Achtung_Bebe
New Yorker
untitled and lifted from under my bed...
Overflow my pen with endless grace
So I may share my weary heart's pace.
You see that man rocking in his chair?
It has been so long since he first sat there.
His load was heavy and it hurt me so,
Yet his eyes seemed to say "you'll never know."
The diagnosis with cancer of the lung
Was the first disaster that had stung.
Do not be fooled, it does not end there.
There were many events which drove him to the chair.
Take for instance his bank account,
Which never held a great amount.
His wife who left for a higher sum,
Gave plenty reason to look this glum.
And then there's the war which stung the nation,
To leave this man in isolation.
For once his surroundings met his fate,
There was no found refuge from this state.
By telling the tale I fear I'm prophetic...
I constantly pray this is not genetic.
Overflow my pen with endless grace
So I may share my weary heart's pace.
You see that man rocking in his chair?
It has been so long since he first sat there.
His load was heavy and it hurt me so,
Yet his eyes seemed to say "you'll never know."
The diagnosis with cancer of the lung
Was the first disaster that had stung.
Do not be fooled, it does not end there.
There were many events which drove him to the chair.
Take for instance his bank account,
Which never held a great amount.
His wife who left for a higher sum,
Gave plenty reason to look this glum.
And then there's the war which stung the nation,
To leave this man in isolation.
For once his surroundings met his fate,
There was no found refuge from this state.
By telling the tale I fear I'm prophetic...
I constantly pray this is not genetic.