Like the messiah you believe in,
I carried the cross of roses...
I know that
Tomorrow will be...
Hey my childhood friend,
since when we have not talked...
The Morning falls through my ceiling...
with the weight of heavy snow...
There i stood so confused,neither knowing what to...
The world just seemed so strange and everything...
All around me,
separated four or five to a pen...
There is a colour that I no longer seem to see
There is a chain I wear whenever I am free...
Watch as Grandpa’s grief is simpered
away by the all at once shadows...
A Bad Morning
I woke up and got out of my bed...
Uncle Ray...
The Old Harbor
Went down to the sea today...
Where to plant, I cannot guess,
these tired, wayward feet...