persuading needles
from a dwindling haystack...

The poet's muse will never die!
His world of tears unfold in gold...

Scrubbing hands non stop,
using bleach and a hard brush...

Sounds spiral
Up, up...

Aloft, I look with darting eyes, scared of fate...
A sound...

Zambia is home for the harem
Each day they eat grass, they...

Upon my arm I wear my heart
Its tears run red, my grief runs fast...

Swirling down the drain,
those dreams go again...

as Jesus walked on
water he began to feel...

locking myself in
for the second time felt like...

Moving bubble like...

Their tears
Drenched in sorrow...