she is asleep
she is asleep now in her bed in the tiny room she
chose
filled with her art and her books and clothes
it is silent the house yawns under clear cool skies
i am lost and battered again my heart breaks and cries
fathers are too fragile or perhaps it is just me
i can not see clearly for i made choices as well
and lived to recover and learn and avoided the pits of hell
what is different from where i stand with my grey hair
i compare contrast where she might be here not there
she runs from not towards now confidant in her rejection
proud that she drifts without aim or direction
convinced i see her in a lesser light
evidence in her mind that i think she can do no right
yet i am trapped by just the opposite view
i see only her potential all that she can do
but i've shared what i could the die is cast
fathers have their time it does not last
i can only step aside and watch her wend her way
once a god i now stand with feet of clay
i'm just as lost some days perhaps more
i have few choices i have closed most doors
she will not exult in a single gift granted
she sees the world darkly and bitterly slanted
that was a gift i did not mean to share
we give what we have that now is too clear
filled with her art and her books and clothes
it is silent the house yawns under clear cool skies
i am lost and battered again my heart breaks and cries
fathers are too fragile or perhaps it is just me
i can not see clearly for i made choices as well
and lived to recover and learn and avoided the pits of hell
what is different from where i stand with my grey hair
i compare contrast where she might be here not there
she runs from not towards now confidant in her rejection
proud that she drifts without aim or direction
convinced i see her in a lesser light
evidence in her mind that i think she can do no right
yet i am trapped by just the opposite view
i see only her potential all that she can do
but i've shared what i could the die is cast
fathers have their time it does not last
i can only step aside and watch her wend her way
once a god i now stand with feet of clay
i'm just as lost some days perhaps more
i have few choices i have closed most doors
she will not exult in a single gift granted
she sees the world darkly and bitterly slanted
that was a gift i did not mean to share
we give what we have that now is too clear
she is asleep now in her bed in the tiny room she
chose
filled with her art and her books and clothes
it is silent the house yawns under clear cool skies
i am lost and battered again my heart breaks and cries
fathers are too fragile or perhaps it is just me
i can not see clearly for i made choices as well
and lived to recover and learn and avoided the pits of hell
what is different from where i stand with my grey hair
i compare contrast where she might be here not there
she runs from not towards now confidant in her rejection
proud that she drifts without aim or direction
convinced i see her in a lesser light
evidence in her mind that i think she can do no right
yet i am trapped by just the opposite view
i see only her potential all that she can do
but i've shared what i could the die is cast
fathers have their time it does not last
i can only step aside and watch her wend her way
once a god i now stand with feet of clay
i'm just as lost some days perhaps more
i have few choices i have closed most doors
she will not exult in a single gift granted
she sees the world darkly and bitterly slanted
that was a gift i did not mean to share
we give what we have that now is too clear
filled with her art and her books and clothes
it is silent the house yawns under clear cool skies
i am lost and battered again my heart breaks and cries
fathers are too fragile or perhaps it is just me
i can not see clearly for i made choices as well
and lived to recover and learn and avoided the pits of hell
what is different from where i stand with my grey hair
i compare contrast where she might be here not there
she runs from not towards now confidant in her rejection
proud that she drifts without aim or direction
convinced i see her in a lesser light
evidence in her mind that i think she can do no right
yet i am trapped by just the opposite view
i see only her potential all that she can do
but i've shared what i could the die is cast
fathers have their time it does not last
i can only step aside and watch her wend her way
once a god i now stand with feet of clay
i'm just as lost some days perhaps more
i have few choices i have closed most doors
she will not exult in a single gift granted
she sees the world darkly and bitterly slanted
that was a gift i did not mean to share
we give what we have that now is too clear
Posted: Wed - July 7, 2004 at 11:27 PM
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© 2004 Al Alessi
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Published On: Feb 10, 2005 10:32 PM