Always - Poem by Mad Gone
Remember where we once sat down to play,
On the fertile slopping banks beside the Brea.
Carefree, without the burden of today,
Remember our childish silly cakes of clay.
Standing at the back entry gate,
wondering if you had gone, if I was too late.
The loft converted for our good pleasure.
Those dreamy days, my dearest childhood treasure.
Grand house filled with every kind of toy,
The tiny world of Barbie, though was our greatest joy.
How simple, it would seem, life was then,
Our only concern was how we should dress Ken!
Nigeria a place I came to hate,
While your return I would so keenly wait.
Days would drag and never end.
The letter I would start, but never send.
Then inevitably, I suppose, we grew apart,
as new social circles we felt compelled to start.
But, how I wished I too could stop all damn clocks,
and scribble, no, scream the message: she is dead!
The pain on parents faces,
as they stood there in the pouring rain.
The soil then turned and cast aside,
while protocols we had to once abide.
What was left for me to say?
Could I take her place there, where she lay!
Instead inside the quaint, quiet church we knelt to pray.
This pain I knew would sadly never go away.
While years moved on and sermons where updated,
I wondered if I was in some hilarious way, sedated.
Comments about Always by Mad Gone
Read this poem in other languages
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
Still I Rise
The Road Not Taken
If You Forget Me
Edgar Allan Poe
Stopping By Woods On A Snowy Evening
Do Not Stand At My Grave And Weep
Mary Elizabeth Frye