29. The Path of Thorns

My tongue is black,

The cat is back,

Along the thorny path I sat.

Contemplate the setting sun,

When the horrid day is done.

Cannot stand,

Let it fall,

Hiding underneath it all.

Searing heat,

Frigid cold,

Feeling very, very old.

They must be blind,

They cannot see,

What has taken over me.

Its name is pain,

It hurts so bad,

It makes me cry and very sad.

Rock the baby,

Let him sleep,

He should not see his mother weep.