For a Composer

I want to show you a place
Where the depression never hits,
Where the scrapes and scars
Aren't reminders,
Or bad memories.
Where the smiles don't hide
The holes in your wall,
Or the blood under your fingernails.

I want to find a Never Land
Built just for you
Where you don't have to worry
About the shortening length of time
Between those inexplicable moments,
Or whether or not the voices that whisper
To you from a pillow
Will have you waking up
With foggy vision and shaking hands.

But if it had to be simple,
I'd settle for watching you
Write one of your songs
And just knowing that the first measure
Wasn't written
As a result of the pain
Or a need for distraction.