Would you like to see what I see?
Deep in the meadow of a New York frosting...
There is a room within my soul
for one final tear drop...
No later than the clock could tick a new hour,
I hid near dusty shelves...
I search for the sunrise in these waves of life;
in these still waters...
Just as fast as the smile
fleeting across her face...
Once again I find myself in my own presence
Two am with work in just a few hours...
Have you ever just stopped..
I mean really stopped...
The poems I write ,
seem to understand me more...
This darn fear that through the years
has been tearing my heart apart...
When love arrived and settled in my life,
I did not feel an earthquake move my ground...
You want to be a flower - red or white,
just like those roses in the pots of clay...
Looking downwards, I see my own mistake
The white carpet now soaked in red liquid...