Motherless children grow
In unimaginable sorrow
An eternal lonely space
A universal hollow place
That will never heal.
We are wound.
We do not know what it is we miss
But we know we miss.
Yet we thrive in art and song
In the doing and the done
In business and changing things
We take on the world alone
And win in our loss
Our splendid isolation
Our razor skin
Our tower of splendid absence
Our thrown of disfunction and distain
Our unnerving refusal to give in
To your world to your society
God’s world in which
we blaze in fury!
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