And where have you been my darling young one?
Well, said the blue eyed daughter-
I have been nowhere and I am still heading in that direction.
But the trails of Ambien Grace have seen-
Ten thousand talkers whose tongues were all broken
Guns and sharp swords in the hands of young children
And, if I learn to be still and composed I could possibly hear-
Ten thousand whisperin’ and nobody listenin’
One person starve but many people laughing.
I heard the song of a poet who died in the gutter.
Yet, I am only a child who refuses to grow..I am dumbed down to the point of non-existence.
Therefore,
My hunger is ugly, where souls are forgotten
And I’ll never learn to tell it and speak it and think it and breathe it.
And, my executioner’s face is not hidden.. she sits at the hand of the educated obtuse and plans my meals and speaks with forked tongue..
And I’ll never reflect from the mountain so all souls can see it.
It’s a hard rain’s a-gonna fall! When the world becomes my generations playground!
Ambien Grace
