Cut down
This road
And stay
To the left
Then left
Again
And you
Will eventually
Run into
The house
My father
Had built
For my mother
In the suburbs
When things
We're a little
Plainer
And children
Weren't so
Complex
Where swearing
Got you spanked
And you spoke
With the neighbors
Because you cared
To know them.
And there was
No constant buzzing
Or social networks
Where reality
Slid like your knee
Across the open road
When you fell
Off your bike
And learned
To bleed
Like everyone else.
No comments:
Post a Comment