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Poem
You are a lost, lonely little girl
                       Have another dose of medicine to ease the pain
          Your Daddy has gone off to war; you will never again see his face
              Love and Acceptance - the bitter pill that you cannot swallow.
     Oh, how I wish I could comfort and protect you from the woman in the mirror
                                     It’s as if I made YOU up in MY head

     The men in white torture you with a few more volts to ease the madness
             Monday’s seem to drag on, but for you Monday was cut short
       The sun provided no rays of light, no hope for a brighter tomorrow.
        You are now set free from the war that rages inside of you, that has plagued   
                                                   your being
               Set free from the Holocaust which robbed you of yourself

             Tortured painter of words, how you festoon your words with color
                As dark as the words appear on the page, your words are red
                   Daffodils sprout out of the Earth where you lay your head
                Tomorrows do not exist for you, nor do todays or yesterdays
             I hear the laughter of angels, perhaps you are there among them
                      No more tears, no more sorrows, or pain, you are free

              Dancing on a cloud with God, or perhaps playing your golden harp
 It really does not matter because you now rest in peace - away from your troubles
   You shut your eyes and the world, dropped dead, but I shut mine and I see a  
                                                    world of possibilities.

                      How different we are and yet so much the same
          You were a lost, lonely little girl who is now home with her Daddy
         I am a man, whose father is alive and well, and yet we seem so distant
                      Do you see the glass over there? Is it half-full or is it half-empty?

                           It’s no matter for you are dead and gone
                       I am alive; I will always be alive in one way. 
        I sing the happy gospel melody of a choir, while you sing the blues
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