why remain uncertain
behind the red curtain
fearing the sun
and freeze to cold despair

sweet child, why foster fright
or hold the need to hide
and regret not having
laid yourself bare

i’ve seen your scenes
a-trembling in bed
wounded, sore
all the times you suffered sin
just like in the war

and the hours at your desk
alone, kafkaësk
the crippling thoughts
of being less than nobody

time’s clock round you ticking
and persistently tricking you
into an odd idiosyncrasy

please, won’t you let it be
and find your inner peace
armed in the heavenly host
begging, Father please