Hair once straight, now sits so frayed.
Tireless nights, working till the grave.
Hands once soft, now turned to bone.
And still, within your arms is my only home.
Fairy lights and whiskey sours
A life best lived after hours.
Nicotine on cold night air
As you run your fingers through my hair.
Empty roads and starry nights
A dream so far, yet still in sight.
But rooted to the ground, I still remain.
At least, I was until she came.
But now, alone, I’m on my own, away from home.
Exciting, but still frightening, I think I’ll find my way
I’m sorry Mom.
Your son remains, in yesterday.
