weep for papa

conflict
inner turmoil spoils the child
introspection in expression
aging changes digression
mad to wild
a presence to inhabit
a hostel roaming smile
in whiles on Manhattan island
to best the dire day
I lay low alone
and have it out with words as if to say
the king of swords sent me away
and I am so much bluer
no messages to woo him
depression is a cruel thing
I thought I knew him
alone under stars cold blank bite
I grieve that nothing stays the same
an eve to weep for papa
as mama plays the game
dancing to an enchanted tune
how fortunate the fame
he holds her arm will not let go
the Yankee and his dame.