What did you think you were doing
You silly child who played at grown-up things
Now you suffer consequences
There’s always consequences
Don’t you know
And you want to go home again
and again and again and again
Time and again there’s nevermore time.
Call your mother for solace
Search for Consolation but never let her know
Abandon all but never let go
Clasp the dead grass in your hand in
Memory of what never was
Nor could have been.
-Benjamin Keay © 2010