The Way We Sing

Darling, this is your latest update
from the other side of town.
After the storm winds died
a thousand willows wept
into the hardened ground.
In the circled shade beneath their veils,
a thousand birds lie down.
And you are sleeping any place you can,
any warm jelly belly taped tight
against your own, and you write
broodingly, that you do not belong.
That you slide your trombone
and you eat from tin cans
while each day nine to five
becomes my dream, for my real life
is twenty four/seven huffing,
and shoving every penny into a house
that eats like a horse - and music!
The only music ripping through
this constant clutch of want and need
is the sound of the light switch turning
real lights on - and the mortgage?
ah, that's a smooth song, when I am able
to stay one month behind because it takes
two months for repossession.
But we were talking about you, we always
seem to - and what can you do for money.
Well, I don't know.
The only extra green I grow
is the unkempt lawn I can't afford to cut.
A lush jungle of wild birds and rich earth -
but that was never enough, never enough,
for you.

Reviews

[...]

Such an emotional read, made me kind of sad really,
But so well written and expressed. Awesome write!