Dark Days

Born in the heartland into a middle class

I would sit on my childhood couch and stare out of the cracked glass

It was a mosaic from a baseball that misaligned

But who's to blame if I was bored, stuck between two coastlines

The same way I lived my life, between two extremes

A saint to mom but to the grocery store I was a dirty thief

It's in the past but I still ponder every day

Cause I still have that stolen baseball back from the fourth grade

I would pull up weeds to give to mamma, call them flowers

I would write my name with a backwards L I practiced for hours

I funneled pride to a soul until that soul turned sour