A Child's Tear
Telling people what the words mean
But they never really seem
To just get it at all
They don’t get the reason
They can’t see the picture
Blind to the lines
Try to find the significance
But the motive is so pointless
To find a purpose in this writing
They always focus on the hate
And never realize that I’m just sedated
By the feeling of poetry
It can so easily put me to sleep
The writing doesn’t really have a secret meaning
It’s just an explanation
For why I didn’t wake up this morning
My creation didn’t really have a point
Just to tell the world that that I’m not coming back
Because I didn’t care for the last laugh
Now the world thinks about their mistakes
Reading the poetry and feeling like a lemonade
To fit their perfect suburban serenade
Children playing games in the backyard
Not knowing about the problems behind the walls
Of their parent’s troubled bedroom treason
It never really seemed that it mattered at all
That the walls screamed awful things for random reasons
The writing always stopped the child’s tears
But it couldn’t keep them happy for so many a long year
When the hands turned the clock
And you couldn’t think that anything had ever gone wrong
But the candy was so tainted with the universal lie
That the child would take it without hesitation
With the result that nobody had enough love to try
To mend a broken creation
So what can be the point of the composition
It is merely a rendition
Of why I need the poetry to calm the troubles of this world
I’ll just lay my head down to sleep away the hurt
And take one last look at the dream
Before the vial does take my blood
And the dream becomes God’s true love
Leave me to my reconciled sleep
I don’t plan on waking up
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