brush strokes on my window
flecks of white against the grey
the drops of water dripping
from an ocean in the sky

a symphony of drips and plips
accompanies my sighs -
can all the water wash away
the troubles from outside?

drains will gargle up the dark
grey water from the streets
a potion mixed by grinding down
all those lives beneath our feet

the sodden cardboard houses
wrapping hair and flesh inside
soaked by what once gave us life
now made rotten 'til they die

and once the seas have given
up these souls into the skies
the rain will fall back down again
back down again with open eyes

there is no artist painting
crazy pictures on my walls
just a pricking of my conscience
where the gentle water falls