Lamentable Lamant, look, there.
Past the trauma and torment, lift thy head.
Can you see the beauty glare, yes, so fare!
Grace given to thee, the truth to be fed.
"This morn'n my mama said, Thee I hate."
Fulfilled failure, frozen in time, tick-tock
Clock, scrutinized beneath this irreversable fate?
Even my mother to malice my life, deprecate.
The view a muted obscurity, dimly
Dead, tarnished with corruption and cough.
Hack, hem, like exhaust pipe winter morn'n.
Mother so far, mother so near, catch my tear.
"I be an angel, sent today."
"People think I'm crazy."
"You are my brother."
The Koran he tucks away.
Lament, where you went?
You hid behind the slid doors,
This hour, this chance event,
Go back to what's yours.
Mother calls you,
She cries for your return.
Let her pursue, subdue.
O turn, turn, turn, cigarette
Burn.
« return.