Need a storm
Or something less futile,,
A symphony of rain
Pouring down on me again
And again, until I'm drenched,
And the sun sends a glare;
Blinding me,
Binding me
To a frozen state of thought
Where you are a bird
And I've got you caught..
Need a cage
Or something to use
To keep out the bad
And lock you up, surely,
But silently;
Crept before wept,
Into mornings of mourning,
When I decide it's time
To open your door,,
Which you've already kicked,
And bit, and spit,
So I let you go,
And I watch you fly,
And once again,
He is him --
And I am I --
I'll catch another soon,
But it's the same every time
Need another storm,
Or maybe a monsoon..
To wash away
What happened here, at noon