F. Loyd Speaks to a School

Mother! How I loved you
traversing across time and space,
since times immortal.
Now it has changed
for I know not what I feel.
The silent anger boils.
I seethe from within,
realization creeping slowly
a tentacled feeling,
that things will never be the same.
You and I,
different yet of common blood,
different where we both sing a different song,
different where we both hear a different drummer,
different where the rail tracks can never meet,
different where the drift seems endless.
Yet I lean on you,
perhaps fear decides it all,
knowing I have hurt you.
But the bird has flown from its nest
and this bird you cannot pin down,
for it flies free.
To chain would be to kill
death being cruel in the last hours.
Why Mother why?
must you see yourself through the common eye.
Why Mother why?
must you decide where the winds should blow.
Why Mother why?
must you impose your ideas.
You love, I know.
You care, I know
You fear, I know.
But you, a murderer
every hour, every minute
you step on mundane dreams.
Tender buds, they are
seeking sunshine warmth.
Yet they die
every day, every moment
cruel, barbaric, inhuman
they be, the moments,
of seeing the sunrise,
and knowing sunset.
Sad they be
the dreams,
crying, endless
in the grave of fear.
And you ask
Why this silence?
Why this distance?
Why this change?
I look at you
not knowing what to tell,
not knowing where to start
not knowing where it will end.
I only sense
the truth,
the truth as it is
that we can never meet.
You are different.
But so am I.