The water sits there
edge of the drive
murky with neighborhood concern
accumulating when one washes their car
watching the street
Sun tries to evaporate it
smiling down that grin a happy teacher
but the puddle won't disappear
each person holds their scribbled scroll
lifting it slighty not to have it dip within this polluted soup
then arrogantly opening them up to declare their reasons for existance
Not a ripple or wave
Just a natural mirror for all the acting
capturing our little lives on a divine wire
to a comedy house in heaven
Nenhum comentário:
Postar um comentário