Meloncolic

In the crib daydream of sleep
Prealchoholic melancholicy baby
will he frolic with maybe
half a moment's rest
but the crazies say
maybe the solace will save me
before guilt laden effervescent
adolescence betrays me
wishing their words were swaying
all the ways that we say things
so they forgave him for sane things
while it's plain that insane was the same scheme
spoken to the baby as a lullaby
as the day bubbled by
until change became a cage that
claimed only the dumb will try
until my broken mind meets
the summer sky and becomes the night
and soothes my little person inside
to slumber