i walked a million miles, i saw the sunset and rise again.
from empty parking lots, till the full traffic of the streets,
i felt the wind blow, and heard the night stand still.
life is not determined by the death.
the grim reaper is the set of each sun,

and at every sunrise possibilities are infinite.
and if he loves me, then why does he leave.
and if she loves me, why is she so disconnected.
i contemplate the secrets of the universe,

and the answers will never be anything but tentative
but as i spin in the moonlight, in the center of a baseball field
i feel fully focused on being complete on a even plane.
the realization of humanities solution, or maybe just my own

is that my mother taught me all that is mystical, all that is motherly.
the relationship we had was made of lies, drugs, and pain
now i look at her as a woman; drunk, high, and a liar.
and blazed by the suns heat or by the joint we shared

the joint of a mothers bond, and how she taught me everything i know.
just a daughter soaking up the sun, a flower not fully bloomed.