The Ghost

The ghost
that lives in a happiness and yet
tosses and turns
rediscovering a time
a tick of a tock
a child and a second
born
does not make the cogs right
the intricate mechanisms
die
on the bed of the real life.
I loved you in a bald realisation
a cheerleader
English major dehumanisation
yet I seek alternatives
because of my own unhappiness
change me
i beg
change me
my children are perfect
unlike this sticky relationship
where my own dawn is false
the evenings are because
a tie us, to a pole
like a horse to a foal, will be with you
because you are the father
Tis true.