I visited your house again, on Christmas, or Thanksgiving. And the man in robes said you were dead, but the house would go on living. He recited poetry, and when he saw me stand to leave, He shook his head and said I'd never find you.
My mother used to dress me up, and while my dad was sleeping, We'd walk down to your house without speaking.
I'll take either at this point.
ReplyDeleteI visited your house again,
on Christmas, or Thanksgiving.
And the man in robes said you were dead,
but the house would go on living.
He recited poetry, and when he saw me stand to leave,
He shook his head and said I'd never find you.
My mother used to dress me up, and while my dad was sleeping,
We'd walk down to your house without speaking.