The end of innocence could have been a deliberate parting
For not wanting to lie dead in a sea of eyes that look
But lips that refuse to talk
Why do you mourn then?
Coming of age could have been a shattering
Of all that I thought, held everything together-
The essential goodness of ‘us’
Why do you rejoice then?
Why do you ask me if these words are happy or sad?
Words often get drained in the music
And the music will be someone else’s
