The Song Of a Universe

I have morphed into triangulated dimensions new friendships beautiful intention.

For the Motherless Child

But who celebrates the Motherless child?

You can give a million pieces of your heart.

I can't recall ever longing for silence more than in this moment.

A struggle between solitude and longing unfolds, reflecting deep emotional pain and a desire for escape.

And it harm none Mama formed the mission, holding her Bible a glory soaked misfit.

Save the idle banter and the petty, senseless chatter for the next innocent victims of your self created disaster.

I'm on the outside bright color peacock spreading; I own my street, a path forced discreet by tainted company.

I thought I'd feel reprieve; some kind of soul relief to find out she died.

Wind comes, leaving half torn remnants of color, a pinwheel once moved by breath.

Fear is an illusion. I invite these intrusions to include truth, even if it hurts you.