mother

Ah you hate to see another tired man
lay down his hand
like he was giving
up the holy game of poker
You tell him to come in sit down
but something
makes you turn around
You cannot close your shelter.

It's true that all the men you knew were dealers
who said they were through with dealing
Every time you gave them shelter
I know that kind of man
It's hard to hold the hand of
anyone who is reaching for
the sky just to surrender

I see the hope fade away as smoke curling around his shoulder. His constant kicks through the gutter makes my shoulders sink that much lower. My will is weakened by my love. The light is scattered and absorbed by the greedy eyes of fate. Their hands thrashing through the feeble cloud, reducing all our hoping to flying dust. Stamina is running low as the sand that marks the time is falling through. To win you have to keep going until it hurts. then keep going further. The air is catching and dragging itself through the tissues of my lungs. Everywhere I look there's a red tinge, and I feel the world around me scratching at me with its jagged nails yet I continue. I've tried so hard to keep going, I wonder if I would even know how to stop.