The Glass Dancer


The Glass Dancer

Mamma, Mamma,
Don’t Cry,
Lucky for us, we have been born again,
From rich moist clay and strewn love,
Each sand particle together mixed.

Sweet waltzes in a time
Dancing with vulnerable glass quarried limbs,
Blind mocking eyes cold as stone,
Mamma, Mamma,
Don’t Cry.

So harried our beginning and our end,
With so much desire and in quiet desperation,
I cut your jade wrists than mine,
My bereavement pain has not been easy.

Twice no one dies,
I wail in unhope,
A slip of the hand,
And we are  together again!

Leave A Reply

Your email address will not be published.

This website uses cookies to improve your experience. We'll assume you're ok with this, but you can opt-out if you wish. Accept

Angie's Diary