Hollow.

Child, the crackers are burning bright,
Why don't you celebrate in red and blue?
Mother, I have nothing, not a flicker of light,
Nothing to smile for, you know it too.


Hush child, 'tis not the end of the road,
Many more towns to come, much to see still.
Mother, I'm trying. But this handicap wont go,
My solidarity is shaken, and my manic is ill.


I hold your hand, see it doth not shake,
For perseverance lingers on inside your heart.
Mother, this stillness is lacking, 'tis not the make,
Of courage, but soulless in whole and in part.


What can I tell you? You will not listen,
For the glasses you wear of tinted grey.
My purpose was not to drown out the din,
But to merely  hear you smile and say;


I cannot smile, not in this yellow sun,
It beats too harshly upon my chest,
The ground is dry, the water has run,
And the shade is reserved for the blessed.


Child, I cannot reason with your kind,
That detest the present, though future be bright.
Then leave this room mother, temporary defined,
And as you do, turn off these wicked lights.


I cannot chase their shadows anymore.