I was staring at the sky, just looking for a star, to pray on, or wish on, or something like that. I have a sweet fix of a daydream of a boy whose reality I knew, was a hopeless to be had. But then the dove of hope began its downward slope and I believed for a moment that my chances were approaching to be grabbed, but as it came down near so did a weary tear- I thought it was a bird but it was just a paper bag. I want him so bad. Oh it kills because I know I'm a mess he doesn't wanna clean up. I've got to fold because these hands are too shaky to hold. Hunger hurts but starving works, when it costs too much to love, and I went crazy again today looking for a strand to climb. Looking for a little hope. Baby said he couldn't stay. Wouldn't put his lips to mine. And a fail to kiss is a fail to cope.
