It’s in the lack of tone
It’s hard to find the ones you’ve missed
It’s in the lack of colour
It’s hard to find the ones you’ve missed
It’s in the resignation
It’s hard to find the ones you’ve missed
It’s in the changes & the spaces
You’ll find you lose the ones you’ve missed
You had to set his face on fire
To call for help
It’s the sin of missing days
You’ll find you lose the ones you’ve missed
It’s in the eyes of those who still insist
You’ll find you lose the ones you’ve missed
It’s in the bruises on her wrist
You’ll find you lose the ones you’ve missed
It’s in the eyes of disbelieving mothers
You’ll see the fates of those you’ve missed
You had to set his house on fire
To call for help
I saw the lack of tone & colour
You’ll see the fate of those you’ve missed
I saw the resignation & the bruises
You’ll see the fate of those you’ve missed
She insisted she was to blame for all of this
You’ll see the fate of those you’ve missed
I screamed at your disbelieving mother
And then we lost the one we’d missed
You had to set yourself on fire
To call for help.
©2016 rob hinkal
