Take this, this poem with torn, tattered edges Stuff it in pockets of jeans faded blue Tell all the people who teeter on ledges Nothing is worse if you have not a clue
Shatter this pen flowing ink made of fire Charring the castles where dragon wings fly Fanning the flames that a sad heart has started When every stanza now ends in goodbye
Fracture the vase that once sat in the window Emerald green with a chardonnay shine Toss me the shards till you see I am bleeding Now have some cheesecake, a nice glass of wine
Bury these dreams so they fade in the morning Hidden from sunlight and coated in dew Roll out the leaves in the cover of autumn Springtime for me is now long overdue