Thomas W Case

Look at Me, Mama

 

I\'m an athlete.
I can throw and catch, 
and run in the sun-
all shiny and bright.
And you just sleep, sleep, sleep.

Look at me, mama.
I\'m a writer.
I do poetry and stories, 
all pretty and pink, 
and all you do is, 
sleep, sleep, sleep.

Look at me, mama.
I can dance.
I\'m lonely, 
I\'ll move to France, 
meet a woman, get married.
Look at the ants crawl through
the spilled red juice on
the grass; nature everywhere, 
as you sleep, sleep, sleep.

Look mama, 
look at me, mama! 
I have children now, 
all good and wise, 
you\'re a grandma.
Why don\'t you wake up? 

Please look at me, mama.
I\'m lonely and afraid.
I\'m old now, and cold, 
and you still, 
just
sleep, sleep, sleep...