Mummy, What Will I Be When I grow Up?

The beauty of graceful sunsets lost,
the price of non rewind deep wound cost,
addict blows the opium itching & bleeding,
losing cardboard parts to a child laying
in the sun as the needle stings & pierces.

Lost a deep nerve frantically fierce,
reach out and touch the piercing stars,
its time to play so lets rehearse,
dream of kingdom comes remains far.

Fire in his belly as liars are on the telly
ramble and scramble, pretend to be able
screaming, ranting, pointing bony fingers
as flesh becomes death at their two cents.

" Mummy, what will I be when I grow up?"
"Son, you'll be an astronaut traversing
planets with your eyes of curiosity,
making me proud upon my death."

Sits in a dirty crack house smoking
visions of a mother's maternal dream.