Inside

Songs of the Everyday

What could I have given you
but some words,
more collateral
on the debts incurred?

What could I have written?
Just another thought
in a gilded cage
that my pen has wrought.

What could I have told you
when you looked inside,
but the faded song
of imprisoned rhymes?

And would you hear the purpose
of those sad laments?
Add them to the pile
of unwrapped amends?

There’s a finger on my lips
and I know your smile,
and your gift to me
is another child.

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