.

He sits on a hill
crying tears of rejection
Searching for love
but to chase it away

Calling the clouds
hanging low in the heavens
Blind to the light
in its abstract display

There all alone
hearing voices on breezes
Swears it is him
they are talking about

Recording echoes
on pages of reasons
Counting each one
on his fingers of doubt

Feeling the sweat
as it drips past his hairline
Filling the cracks
that have formed on his skin

Drowning the dreams
of the flooded temptations
Closing his eyes
just to try once again

Falling apart,
tiny pieces now crumble
Pebbles of life
cast to reaches below

Back to the earth
if the soil will have him
Maybe this time
something better will grow