Comforter

My daughter created the image at 11 yrs of age - I still love it as much as the first day she brought it home.

The daily grind can get you down, 

Unanswered questions swirl around,

What empty spaces occupy,

The equi-distance twixt truth and lies.

I hide myself in swathes of words,

all different textures, swarming hordes,

Of many fabrics sewn to bind

A complex tapestry of mankind

I'll patch together a type of quilt,

Sewn with words, stitched in guilt.

Some cold day when thoughts won't form,

I'll use this spread to keep me warm.