It’s the kind of rain you
Get wet in by the end of the street,
Without realising it,
And there’s a leak that is losing fluid
And pleading for me to undo it.
And if it calcifies my heart
Then so be it but
Listen round and let
Me take you from your stories
And tales of unfulfilled plans,
For when your past betters the present
Your future collapses.
May your names increase with age,
For you caused some storm damage
Where none was thought possible.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment