by Tom Hatch
He was walking down the hall
A second after dawn
He heard and saw that I was awake
Tapped on my door
Are you ok dad, he said
I'm fine, I said
Just watching the sunrise, I said
It is not really rising dad he said
I know I said
Can I have a hit off your bong
I said
Ok, ok,...pull trust me
He said take the hit
I did then said, see you next week
(it was a Saturday)
Sitting in the snow the
Sky a bit brighter
Colors bright
Lovely then the thought
Dark thought sister was gone
My brain zig zagged then dropped
An inflamed fire escape
Done feeling the waves
Into low tide trying
To sooth the pain
There is the masking tape
Of ripping the colors off
The corners holding my
Shoulders together
Knowing thinking of
Her searching the forest of my life
Everyday she will be there
In a niche in my mind the happy part
A spark-plug missing from the V8
If there are angels they sang
Listening to Social Distortion "When The Angels Sing"
I cry
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