She tries to elicit the most out of me
But you know she tries to make a ghost out of me
With her cry, plaintive and futile 
Spawning a lost age 
For decades to come
In the submergence
But my fear
Is brash and cuts to the quick
Some would say I’m just making it stick
But it perforates
And evaluates
A sun most ready
As my hand is holding steady
On the tip of the pen
She says it again
To over emphasise 
That all the dreams are lies
In their folly
I woke up when they called me Lollie