Everybody is dying in Haiti.
The girl has just come by.
I have not slept. In fact,
I’ve done some drinking.
She comes and asks me how
I am. I am okay I tell her.
She has a boyfriend now,
After she leaves, she tells me
this,
It’s not the first time she kept that close until sometime else.
We were talking for a while.
I wonder just when the earth
Decided to quake
Decided to ****
To shake, to tremble, to rock
And somewhere I’m sure
We were being selfish,
And I was wanting her,
And she was telling me not to,
and not to
Look so close in her eyes, she knows well how I can see it all.
And somewhere still there
Was a little boy dying,
He will never kiss a girl,
Never wonder why eyes are
the color of skies: and dirt
and grass blades, I don’t know,
At least I get to venture
a Guess,
I bet it’s the same reason
I love the girl, I carry a torch, maybe it’s just for now, I hope so.
Jun 18, 2011
Jun 18, 2011 at 9:42 AM UTC
Everybody is dying in Haiti.
The girl has just come by.
I have not slept. In fact,
I’ve done some drinking.
She comes and asks me how
I am. I am okay I tell her.
She has a boyfriend now,
After she leaves, she tells me
this,
It’s not the first time she kept that close until sometime else.
We were talking for a while.
I wonder just when the earth
Decided to quake
Decided to ****
To shake, to tremble, to rock
And somewhere I’m sure
We were being selfish,
And I was wanting her,
And she was telling me not to,
and not to
Look so close in her eyes, she knows well how I can see it all.
And somewhere still there
Was a little boy dying,
He will never kiss a girl,
Never wonder why eyes are
the color of skies: and dirt
and grass blades, I don’t know,
At least I get to venture
a Guess,
I bet it’s the same reason
I love the girl, I carry a torch, maybe it’s just for now, I hope so.
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