A trickle of rain on a grey wilted sky,
A silver line of light shining oh so gay,
Another dry day,
another hour of pain for I.

A simple gesture in the morning,
a snuggle, a kiss.
Something my heart urns for,
my stomach churns for,
That feeling of being wanted,
not lusted.
Love is discusting.
A filthy trick,
Love is not love without lusting,
and the feeling of anguish will stick.
A day for the lonely wilted heart.