This is the World
All tattered and torn
That bore a baby
So forlorn
Who cried with dread
On a Monday morn
As I sail away over the ocean.
These are the days
And the empty years
Which deftly fulfilled
The Mother’s fears
And filled a lake
With uncried tears
As I sail away over the ocean.
Here is the house
I should have called home,
As I wander
The vacant rooms alone
And spend time
Reaping the seeds I’ve sown
As I sail away over the ocean.
Those are the endless
Questions I asked
And all the pointless
Unfulfilled tasks;
Look at the face
With the broken mask
As I sail away over the ocean.
These are the wits
Of which I’m at the end,
There are the people
Mistaken as friends
Here are the stitches
That I cannot mend
As I sail away over the ocean.
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