maybe the day
that she met mama
her tiny fingers framed
her face, in light
it was so flawless
that she was a ghost
ok, it's fine to hold her ransom
on her wedding day
deflowered, reviled
and tossed aside
it's useless anyway
i find your son dead in the alley
i find your friends decayed
i see sour grapes on the table
for all the guests to take
i'll run back home
in the old man's slippers
and take the widest route
so i can see the west and
what animals i should shoot
okay, i beat the beanbag open
the kids cried in their seats
parenting, it just seems to hopeless
with the way they look at me

INVIA LE CORREZIONI