The morning light
of the new dawn...
I've been many places, but I'm not worldly
and I've gone through a lot just don't call me...
When you inhale, every particle in the universe...
The world is only turning because it's disoriented...
She calmly approached him,
while he was carving a wooden bird...
The head chairs meetings
voices creep...
Amongst the fleeting clouds up high
where wings of the sparrow spread open wide...
When home is calling my name
my heart is aching for this old place...
His knife slowly went through the corners,
as he carefully carved broken crayons...
Who will comfort me
when I'm dead...
No pain meds for me,
he told me, I want to know...
The quality of time
and the treatment...
To the man
who tore his lovers...