Fortunately, I never truly talk to my family, even better there is only my dog and me, being somebody’s husband… or having kids with two legs instead of four? Family Portrait, but it’s getting sort of crowded in here I think.
Okay so I’m my own secret society
before her, before them, before him
but my dog is my best friend
Cause he doesn’t need an answer or three
as I’m trying to be husband, daddy, what’s the matter
with me and it just makes me sadder
Don’t let them in, don’t let them see, my expression
“I’m fine” the words squeak out
Some father, some spouse, more house
Only if I could afford it, show some propriety
Most people count their money
I count at the door, the tiles on the floor, who’s laughing at me
Can I have a moment of peace
When everything is five by five
Working I strive
Decide then I will feel alive, an obsession
maybe I’m normal, human, an ordinary human, my girl
says there is more to this world
Oh if I could only see it, such variety
Still, the ground looks the same
Sad tears, painful, I’m sure they think I’m insane
Clowns can be sad, especially, when they believe
that’s not their true
calling, so who are you
Did I give you the impression
perhaps I cared in the first place.
I need more space
One man and his anxiety
and still, I wonder why I can’t breathe
Counting seats for my O.C.D.
my dog, me and the
disease known as Depression
Now Say Cheese
Copyright © 2017, Will A. Bradford Jr. All rights reserved.