One Sunday

I talked to my mother on Sunday Buried my brother at noon Spoke to a stoner from 1 til We listened to music boroque We found a missing piece Missing from our mind But I know at the very least I no longer am able to cry I like the sound of violence Pulsating in and out of my ears I kept the head since Friday Clutching very very near I'd like to throw the heart in the brook But I fear of a little girl's spirit I wouldn't want her to live a life Growing older with fearing A child walks across the ground A revolutionary sight Thinking of all the things she can do And all she has to do is try The pride I felt for what I made I'll never live it down It's like a writer receiving a pulitzer prize And then winning a marathon My baby changed for the first time And did it oh so well Thinking of all the things that will span Throughout all her lifetime I'll never stop being so proud of her She's triumphed a great neat feat And I know she will go very far And I'll watch and anticipate I stepped out the morning one Sunday thinking about all that I took I remembered just how bloody I couldn't bring myself to look A cloud flew over the brook and Water waddled away They found my brother at 3:10 And I talked to my mother on Sunday