A mother bids a weeping farewell
To the, in her eyes, eternal little boy.
Straightens his long wornout cap
And strokes by the cold red cheek,
Never ever stray your way
In this very big strange world.
You ruffle and tousle back the cap
The way it was supposed to those days.
Where are you, where have you been?
Who are you, what have you done?
She used to always quote her mother
That "life begins at twenty-one!"
But I'm more than sure you'd disagree.
This wasn't far before it ended.
Accelerating through the crowd,
Waving and forming words with her mouth.
Other than souls of sobbing war widows,
She stays until there's none left there.
Derailing, because we're nothing more
Than what we are,
Lost souls in search for a guiding light
In times of loss, in times of need.
Why are we left
With these questions that remain untold?
You'll never prove us wrong.
Only the end of the line could do such a thing,
But you can't prove a dead man wrong.
Never would he in his life
Return back to the town
Where his childhood dreams
Lie shattered on the playground,
Where the swing is now only swung
By grey winds of memory.
No one still this very day
Knows where or why
His path would him claim.
Maybe he's still out there,
Dreaming over the red horizon
To one day find his way back home.
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