Ma, it’s dark here
The candies are hanging beyond reach
I can only see the ceiling
The girls are outside laughing
And I only lay down here dreaming
Ma, it’s dark here
I haven’t seen the sunshine since last spring
My tin soldiers are marching
And I am still laying down here dreaming
Ma, it’s dark here in the valley
The storm has broken the electricity
I am in the dark of darkness
I see no lights coming in
I am in the deepest tunnel without a torch
Ma, when can I be out of the valley?
Ma, it’s dark here
Without windows I can not see
Cold winter soon will invade me
I need your touch
Ma, it’s dark here
My tongue is freezing
My feet are numbing
They told me all the poets eventually
Will be buried densely
And sure, there is no money
The poems they wrote will be in the trash
Ma, it’s dark here without your touch
I will be just another mummy in the Death Valley
* My mother used to hang all the candies in a basket to the ceiling because she doesn’t want me to be poisoned by my addicitons. I was a sick child, gazing into the ceiling was all I could do back in those days, laying in bed and dreaming. With only tiny windows, the room was dark and truly like a prison cell without much light coming in. In my memories, most of the time those fantasies were scary. In the coldest winter nights, mom warmed up my cold freezing feet with her body and held my all night long. Without my mother, I could not survive those brutal and unhappy days in China. Now, I am in the deep valley of my life, those childhood feelings came back again. Will she be there for me again? Can she understand now what I am about to do with my life? How I wish she would know.