mommy always called for daddy;
by the grave, near the sea;
always there, to see no end;
always there, by the weekend.
Daddy died many years ago;
a mistake I desperately wish to undo;
now, as I'm slowly dying;
she's there, crying then laughing.
for the sake of the son she shot;
she cackled, "I hope you rot!"
for that was many years ago;
I made a mistake I cannot undo.
a cassette playing in my mind;
a memory driven in thine;
I shot daddy down;
laughed when he fell on the unforgivable ground.
— Anastacia
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ANASTACIA
PoetryA compilation of poems about love, reality and distorted fantasy. Thoughts to words - Touch to feelings - Sight to memories - All I can offer to you in writing. - Anastacia Cover belongs to its rightful owners.
