There are fields for the dead
and fields for the dying and fields
for children, who don't know how
much hurt they swallow with their
milk it's electrifying, to walk a wire,
away from your brother and home,
and hospital rooms look like dormitories,
where the teachers are the authority, that
don't have to know you, to tell you what
to do, you will listen to them on top of
the voices in your head and the memories
you thought were fading, flood your head,
the test to predict your future, was the

one you failed the first time you cried,
and you know it every time you wake
to damp pillow, were you crying in
your dreams, dear darling, they'll
take you away from me, don't let
the dark angel come, I want you
home, I want you with me.