45*21

once, you were a smile
a gesture of good will
fed on the grass of your father's labor
and trellis of your mother's wisdom
then, someone loafed
broke the link of drips
and night became black as tar
you nearly fall off the roof looking for stars
the tears drip into the solitary can
you wake up hung over from what you eat
disappear in the folds of comfort
the only part that exists sometimes is outburst
I sympathize
the harsh reality that everyone faces is unavoidable
by how to avoid it
the human trick
I walk among the hummocks
on a deserted midnight
home, I'm not sure
I look up, no stars
only the sky, black as tar