Down the drain
Down the drain into the dark recesses
Lost from my sight
Lost from me forever
Like a mother
Like a father
Another child
Another chance
A chance for normalcy in growing darkness
Darkness like the drain that I can't turn away from
It all circles down the drain like this translucent liquid
How much more?
How many more?
How many more must drain away?
Before I am strong enough to stop it?
Before I can cup my hands and hold the water
The clear beautiful hopeless water
Keep it from falling
From circling down the drain

Down the drain
The water looks clear
But I can see the stain
The blood that won't wash from my hands
I scrape and scrape but its still there
The water circles crimson in my horror
This isn't what I wanted
This isn't the life I thought it would be
It was supposed to be perfect
It was supposed to be pure
But the blood doesn't wash off
It stains the skin like the
Mark I know is there
Why did my father put in this pain?
Why won't the blood come off?
And circle away
Like the water that circles down this drain

Down the drain
The water circles
Clear and clean
It takes with it years of anger
Years of hate
It is thick with regret and the need for penance
Clear and clean
It takes away my thoughts and deeds
It leaves my hands new
Instead of long thin calloused with time and action
Such contrast to the sets of children's hands that seek its purity
How one cups it futilely, water leaking from the space between his fingers
Overflowing into the basin and carried away
How one meticulously scrubs with sheer determination thoroughness
How much like their fathers
In appearance
But appearances like the past
Circle down the drain

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Yay! Close me and go back to Pyrate M's Fictional Bric-A-Brac