Don’t turn your head away or try
shutting off: you can listen still
as I can see you:
the killing fields have made you grave
Will you ever get back to play with us?
Will you ever smile leaving out
the evil sparkle that’s been shed by you eyes?
It blurred your vision, your kindness to oblivion
It made you blind to others’ fright
It turn’d soothing hands to hurtful wire
When you fell you chose to fall harder
And you dived deep into some abyss
that’d been forming up inside
Hidden from others’ sight
You wanted it for yourself, suppose
— but didn’t it grow wider than
could be kept?