Over Town, the Sky Weeps

Not for me this time,

but forgive me, my naivete–

the sky weeps each night

at the end of the day, because

such precious stories,

such failures,

such remorse.

My God.

My God.

Your appetite for this

makes me take a pause,

and wonder..

I’ve been to the moon and back.

I would not wish that

on my enemies children.

What exactly are we doing here?

Mama

How is it?

You pull and take—

yet under your control

we barely find, not make,

tomorrow, so slim,

my heart tries to keep

rhythm within, do you…

know why we cry?

Mama?

Um, yes, forgive me,

I ask, as you dance

across the sky.