You stood like a child stands before authority.
Hands in pockets, shoulders slumped, eyes heavenward.
And I wondered what you were singing for.
What you were praying for.
Did you ask the gods for success?
For your album to go platinum and you to retire?
Di d you pray for the heart of a child?
Someone that is as you once were
Broken and using music as your crutch.
Did you pray that child would find solace
In the notes and chords and words you prayed with?
Or was what I mistook as a prayer
Simply a drugged out, hazed out stare.
A skyward glance waiting for the next pass.
Next pass of the joint, of the bottle, of the straw, of the needle
Whatever you’re using to forget your past.
Because you stood there.
Hands in pockets, shoulders slumped, eyes heavenward
And I could’ve felt the angels wings.
Could’ve seen them touch down and save some child.
With the way you weaved your words
But your eyes.
Our eyes were blank looking beyond.
And I couldn’t tell if you were seeing your bank account
Your account in heaven
Or the next pass.
But when I pray
When I raise my voice in supplication
I’ll pray that you were praying
And that prayer leapt off that screen
And danced across the nation
To some child that is as I once was.
And is now one step closer to whole
Than they were before.