I Have a Choice

I am a slave to her cloud of smoke
I sit inside the cloud, listening and learning
Of her miseries and her burdens
Which weigh her down, like bags of sand
And suddenly I realize, I am no longer the child in the sand pit
I am no longer chasing the babysitter 
I am no longer fighting to stay up awhile longer
I am a slave today, to her cloud of smoke
To take her burdens and wear them on my shoulders
To make a liquid of her miseries and drop them into my eyes
So that tears fall out and fall down my cheeks
And I realize that now I am much older
Now time chases me
I am fighting to keep my eyes open instead
Of succumbing to the sleep that so often feels like a distant dream
I am fighting to listen to everybody 
I am fighting to stay a slave, so they can find comfort
I have a choice, but I choose her cloud of smoke