Thin Lace

February 28, 2010
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Rained on, looked down, looked upon, with a song, un-heard through the wind.

The look, they took from the rained in river of caving tears.

Wrong song, played long.

Light out, light on.

Right, wrong, the emotional words and cries like ping pong.

Rain beaded lightly, luminously, on the yellow pedaled flower, in the sky that's flown forever.

Above this, clouded bliss, with the worlds of words that hover.

Look out, take cover, do not surrender, to the offender.

Blue, pink.

Now the waving hands sink, in the brink, of the blink, of the night.

Stars un-reachable, words un-seen, un-teachable.

Fickle with words, that lied the truth.

Frivolous laughter, smiles painted with plaster.

Forever, never, ever so clever.

Un-readable, receivable words, that speak or spoke.

The seen dangling rope.

Lost hope, lost eyes.

Waterfalls, down cheeks, that speak, with salt.

Walk, wade, fade.

A never ending searching raid.

A parade, with batons, sending souls to die, now in graves they lie.

Drums, sorrowful hums...

One taste, fast pace, thin lace.

The end of a worldly race.

To war they send, the souls they lend, that are never returned,

but stay staggered, in, and upon, the earth, stale or burned...

Never, to be returned.

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