See my father painting pictures of injustice
Steeped in a longing for hope
See my mother finding pieces of god
Left searching for some answers
Their painting a timeline of tomorrow
On the palm of my hand
Lines reminding me to dig deeper

I hear an echo

Left hand rhythm right hand melody
Left me wandering her geography
I’m learning to hold my own hand now
when I sleep
I’d give you love
but all I got this time is lonely


That I couldn’t be good enough be whole enough
And be enough to fill you