Lonely child you were.
Is it too late to be your friend?
Selfish child you were,
always wanting what you could not have:
red ball, red stool, a dad who gave a shit,
a mother who didn't have to work herself
to the bone.
Pretty child you were,
an ugly old man now.
Is it too late to fold you into me,
to love us for who we are
and who we were
and who we will be?
I confess I abandoned you.
I was out of my mind for so long
and you were lost in the mazes of my heart.
I confess I believed
I could walk the years