The Pictures of Sleeping

When you wake to see those days
Where the sun doesn't invade your curtains
You know you've waken too early for anyone's own good
But should you win the day

Then maybe, it's all worth the dreary bodies
The maybes in serenity drive you there
Where we learn how gunshots are a universal language
And how I wish my hair was flatter

So much pain and loss in simple words
And tears translate to the infamous black ink
Or so not infamous, because you take me there
Through this valley of shaken and awakening bones

I wrote a poem today, so raw and baby-like
About life, chaos and calamity
Aren't we all just lost causes of tossing twenties?
And statements of false glares just point figures?

I am the blame game
I'm the son of a crying Father
How do you get your own to love?
You tell me, because you're the ones

All the threads that once held you
Snapped like the trees crying for help, like my heart
So leave yourself behind the tired curbs, find me here
And thus, amen, amen, amen, there's more to living than being alive