That photosynthesis
Running through my skin...

My thin frail spine
Has three holes in it...

I am a lead pencil
I spit out the words...

You are as grand
As her petals of silk...

Why was he snoring
Before he went to bed...

Will the beams of moonlight
Ever see a rainbow...

I often wondered
Why it must be...

My life is valued
I can be a draw...

The odds stacked against us
Slim chance at that...

Like beads of sweat that cling to you
I am but laced in that morning dew...

If i was that smile
Upon your face...

If i was a sparkle
In your eye...