I sit here thinking of the past
knowing which memory shall forever last
a sphere of time
lost like a newly printed dime
a dying sun
losing it's only loved one
the questions of the world are forever, (what have we done)
a mother cries for the death of her only son
yet this kind of pain is normal for everyone.
I close my eyes idealy thinking
strangely listing to the voices in my head screaming
then from somewhere in the dark a childs voice is singing
beautiful sunshine, beautiful day
plenty of sunshine coming my way
Oh how I remember when Mom would tell me
I can be anything
now all I hear is "Have you done the dishes"
it seems more and more each child's life is full of broken wishes.
