on the stream of life, i was a water lily
and on it's street, the heat
that rose up from the railway
in the hazy spring, newborn fawns
that bucked and singed
a thousand unheard of songs
and in the time in between
i've been far too many a thing
for it has worn on me
like bricks chipped by the cold of winter
or yellowed grass from drought,
a finger with a splinter
i'm not broke
though i am poor
i've got so much planned
so much still in store
Jan 23, 2021
Jan 23, 2021 at 10:59 AM UTC
on the stream of life, i was a water lily
and on it's street, the heat
that rose up from the railway
in the hazy spring, newborn fawns
that bucked and singed
a thousand unheard of songs
and in the time in between
i've been far too many a thing
for it has worn on me
like bricks chipped by the cold of winter
or yellowed grass from drought,
a finger with a splinter
i'm not broke
though i am poor
i've got so much planned
so much still in store