FORGIVE ME, MOTHER
With growing tides of hot and cold
I can feel her reaching for help
She blows me over with her cries
And curses me for her decay
I heard Ishmael’s voice from a soundproof room
It crept through my skin and told me to move
He said success is a group effort rooted in reform
I told him I was hopeless
Hopeless, maybe, but not helpless
So I thought up some self-esteem and went in headfirst
And soon I had exposed my Taker to my inner Leaver
Boy, was she angry
I sat in between them until we reached a compromise
Taker would listen to Leaver
Leaver would teach Taker her ways
And I awoke with a clarity that can only be found in a dream