Lullaby in Blues

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Lullaby in Blues

“Some day we’ll all be gone, but lullabies go

on and on.”--Billy Joel.

Good night, my angel, Billy sang,

even though the villains did not hang,

and many of the punks joined the gang,

and the comic book guns said bang.

I heard it first

on the anniversary of my mother’s death,

recalling I never heard my son’s first breath,

as my actual daughter refused my parentage,

and my actual father remained a ghost,

calling my name on midnight’s tongue.

Lullabies,

I never heard them.

Lullabies,

I never wrote them, or sang them,

those damn ditties comprised 

of divers strings;

wailing violins and throbbing cellos,

all bowing that one sustained chord

that always makes me,

allows me to weep;

because of the promises

I couldn’t keep,

failing those challenges

that were too steep,

as my shredded pride 

lies in a heap,

since what’s terribly broken

runs so deep,

forcing me,

so like a child,

to muffle it all

as I sleep.

Glenn Buttkus

Posted over at dVerse Poets Pub

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