Your mind is the bed
of an Elysian river
of thought
and when acid rain came, you
built dams to punish yourself
by keeping that toxic water
from ever
flowing out
to sea.
I may not know how
to break through your walls, but I’ll
sit on these banks
shedding a tear for each
polluted drop of rain
until, perhaps, one day my
Hope will
run your
waters pure.