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| Eerie As Rainy Day Clouds
The clouds, they hang low to the ground. The birds still sing, But of an uncomfortable sound. A depressed face is what's replaced of my smile As I die inside for a while. As a child in the wild, I never addressed unhappiness, I never understood a frozen kiss, And I never recalled a tainted wish. But if I was so easy, Why did I cry inside... until I died? I died of that awful music, Which was played so passionate. It contaminated what was the heart of my soul. And then... It faded to cold. So very cold to the very touch. Enough to freeze life's blush, And thicken the clouds from dawn to dusk. Prohibit the sun from coming around, While conducting these uncomfortable sounds. Zashfiia Ckalembee Copyright ©2001 Tilden Clark |
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