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Waking  I wander where did those happy days go.

My New Year resolution is to shed those unnecessary thoughts.

My Comforter will guide me and wants this for me.

Patiently He answers my unspoken prayer.

And childlike I stomp them where they lie.

They will tantalize me no more as I crush them.

And I play with those toys in the dirt where i was free.

Mother  calls me to dinner and washes my hands and face.

Tomorrow I will clean up the mess I left.

I need to rid myself of the filth.

I wear my past like new clothes that are stiff.

They need to be washed and dried and softened.

The doctor will have me lie on her couch and prattle.

She will take me to the cleaners and steam the past.

Sitting at the top of the stairs and listening.

With my tears running famously and glistening.

I hear  the television and you slowly drink your beer.

Mom waitresses  while father and his greed cracks another year.

Tomorrow I will clean up the mess I left.

I need to rid myself of the filth.

I hear you sing the song as I sit on the doctors couch.

Crying and wonder if it is my fault and the rope is lowered.

The strangers hand reach for me and they hold me tight.

Bathe me with whispers not to tell every night.

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