If only if only, the birds would have told me
my thoughts and brain would wear thin.
If only if only, the wind could have sold me
to the earth where my story begins.
If only if only, the sun wasn't shining,
and your face would reflect not a ray.
If only if only, my thoughts weren't lonely,
and I could write a humble, simple day.
If only, my only, my words pouring out,
in vacant parking lots, with empty doubts.
My only, my only, my escape from the void,
the beautiful emptiness inside being toyed.
If only my only would cherish and hold me, as much as I to it, and I being lonely.
If only my sorrow could be over 'morrow, and leave me in the field, alone, and still borrowed.
If only my brain would work in the rain, or the drips of my mind were mute,
A silent endeavor, a quiet forever, a golden garden together, my mind to a feather,
and a new perspective absolute.