Mummy, What Will I be When I grow Up?

The beauty of graceful sunsets lost, the price of non rewind deep wound cost, addict blows the opium itching & bleeding, losing cardboard parts to a child laying in the sun as the needle stings & pierces. Lost a deep nerve frantically fierce, reach out and touch the piercing stars, its time to play so lets rehearse, dream of kingdom comes remains far. Fire in his belly as liars are on the telly ramble and scramble, pretend to be able screaming, ranting, pointing bony fingers as flesh becomes death at their two cents. " Mummy, what will I be when I grow up?" "Son, you'll be an astronaut traversing planets with your eyes of curiosity, making me proud upon my death." Sits in a dirty crack house smoking visions of a mother's paternal dream.