How feed the words that just won't come
When the thoughts you feel have begun to run
No knowing where these rivers flow
Except into that vast ocean down below
Waters through which we all must swim
Negotiating our way through every whim
Some sink, others struggle while some float
Others even find or build a boat
But in the end it all ends the same way
In a land more beautiful than our place of grey
No comments:
Post a Comment