i have never asked to be born, yet
something holds me accountable
and i have already been punished
by the silence of my own children.
the bitter irony is that i did it myself.
i have always wanted to play it safe,
you know, life. the problem is that
the green man is just a convention
and what is left is a cup of mint tea
with a hint of self-pity and seaweed.
hidden pilcrow 