Post by Forte! on Dec 27, 2008 13:14:18 GMT -5
Handsome,
Where as before I had nothing.
Maybe a broken bottle or a pocket knife,
And the sky overhead with it's circle orb,
Linking life and death on the horizon,
And sometimes it might rain,
Bowing the grass at my feet,
And my tired eyes would look up at the sky,
And I would say: "Don't"
But it never would stop.
And why would I want your finch-laid eggs,
From these nests in the trees that you knocked,
Down. So heartless are you.
You would crunch pale shells and drink yellow yolk,
And joke.
but you are not so heartless as I.
Perhaps I am doing you a favor,
By taking your last semblance of love from you.
For you cannot love.
You will not love.
I will keep you from it.
Where as before I had nothing.
Maybe a broken bottle or a pocket knife,
And the sky overhead with it's circle orb,
Linking life and death on the horizon,
And sometimes it might rain,
Bowing the grass at my feet,
And my tired eyes would look up at the sky,
And I would say: "Don't"
But it never would stop.
And why would I want your finch-laid eggs,
From these nests in the trees that you knocked,
Down. So heartless are you.
You would crunch pale shells and drink yellow yolk,
And joke.
but you are not so heartless as I.
Perhaps I am doing you a favor,
By taking your last semblance of love from you.
For you cannot love.
You will not love.
I will keep you from it.
