A Matter of Sanity


Their souls
kindly rest on
the doorsteps of
your door.

But where were you?
You were in your bed.

Beautifully-crafted songs
whisper in your sleep
They yearn to tell you
of their stories.

But your bed was pregnant
all night with you.

and in the morning
you shut off the singings with
a single click
of your remote control.

So simple, you say,
It's all a matter of sanity.

And yet you kill children.