Cracking Up and Cracking Down
Cracking up and cracking down
on the self who can't be found,
(someone said I may have drowned)
cracking down on childish rhymes
filling space and taking time
got to get to something fine,
write of all the dreams I ate,
swallowed pride and love and hate,
if I can negotiate
with the child inside my head,
who really only wants me dead,
(think of all the tears she shed)
maybe if I take her there,
and show her I can truly care,
cracking up would not compare
to simply cracking down.
Copyright © Johnette Loefgren | Year Posted 2006
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