A young girl older than her age,
The mother clinging closely
to the daughter of the tragic
While the husband stares remotely
The subway rattles overhead,
The heat of summer blisters
faded paper from the walls
Dressed in Sunday finery,
The mother turns her head
to hear the neighbors down the hall
Will they go on living broken lives
Will they perish from each other's sight,
Starved of their indifference
and empty in the cupboards
They will go on eating back the twos
and running for their lives
They were three in a tiny room,
One room and a kitchenette,
The sober girl, the sorry mom,
the steel eye and the bell
Will they go on living broken lives,
Will they perish from each other's sight,
Starve in their indifference
and empty in the cupboards
They will go on leading back the tears
and running from the night
The clock keeps time with heartbreak,
the ticking tricks temptation
You wind it hoping hands will
move the night into the day
You rise before the sunlight
to see if maybe this time
you will find a better way.
And if the girl is lucky,
if she can find the nerve,
But only if she looks outside
the shattered smoky windows,
Only if she bravely pulls the door
Will they go on living broken lives
Will they perish from each other's sight,
Starve in their indifference
and empty in the cupboards
and running for their lives.
4.6
