Tears on Small Faces
I can hear the rain inside my head
sinking into the soul of my subconscious
as languid plants and feverish weeds
struggle to find shreds of sunlight.
I can feel the water trickling down the inside of my skull
filling up my spine
falling in rivulets down my brain
like tears on small faces.
At the bottom of my being its all mud
that I didn't put there,
and dreadfully am I afraid that
the plants will die, leaving only dirt.
DH ([email protected])
sinking into the soul of my subconscious
as languid plants and feverish weeds
struggle to find shreds of sunlight.
I can feel the water trickling down the inside of my skull
filling up my spine
falling in rivulets down my brain
like tears on small faces.
At the bottom of my being its all mud
that I didn't put there,
and dreadfully am I afraid that
the plants will die, leaving only dirt.
DH ([email protected])