Even charcoal could not match my burnt-out state
The job must’ve taken ten youthful years off my life
Day in day out I worked the heart out of my chest
I’m surprised it didn’t walk out completely
It stayed, I think, because I saw Keisha every weekend

But she went away without the intention of ever coming back; 
she made that clear from her letter

Dear family:

	I had to leave.  I’m someplace in California.  
I couldn’t feel apart of you guys.  I tried, but 
I had desires you just wouldn’t understand.  I find 
myself identifying with some people you deride and I 
just know you would do me the same if I ever declared…  
Sad to say, I can’t come back.  It just wouldn’t be right, 
not for any of us.  I’m not what you think and I can’t be.  
But I love you anyway.

				Love, 

				Keisha	


We didn’t understand her discontent
Maybe our love wasn’t enough or just too much
Just too tired of the seasoning on the jerk chicken
Reason would never enter our best rationale
Maybe Wayne knew why; she walked out on him
But he believed, sincerely believed, 
aliens took her against her will
The letter was their goodwill gesture

We felt decapitated.  We had to adjust.
Yet even in rearranging our lives, 
we realized self-examination 
would become part of our new existence
Not to mention sorrow
Even if she were to return, 
things would never be the same again 
Oh Keisha, whatever got into you?