where do I start? 53 years old, mother of a daughter and son. My daughter has four children,3 girls and a boy, my son had one son before he was killed. I don't get along with his merry widow who wasted no time in remarrying, therefore, I am not allowed to see my grandson.
I asked the sky to cry for me
my tearducts have run dry
the thoughts tear at me in my head
till I feel like I could die
...
What a great day it is
when our world is full of joy
It's a blessing to have memories
that nothing can destroy
...
There's a room that I live in
here inside my head
rage leashed by chemicals
hanging on by a thread
...
'Why? ' is the question
in our mind
the helpless thought
from all humankind
...