can i talk about death
how the colors become pale
and dark when gloomy clouds
rain down their cold tears and
the crisp breath of life passes by
sweeping the dried tears from sunken
eyes...eyes, how they no longer
shine like shadows they become mystery
conjured eventually forgotten?
she said no.
only talk of beautiful things.
well what of the spring as it falls
into numbing winter so dim and
pallid the frost on noses and
the snow frozen tears
falling from the sad skies when
the sun does shine but its warmth
its warmth so so far away that
leaves crash into the tender soil
brown and yellow and red yet
still frail.
she said that was a beauty and
i look away.
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