Monday, 17 July 2017

Rain On Me



Lisa, life has gathered your pains
As waters logged within you
So that you're swollen with sorrow
I'm dry and damned from life's harshness
Rain on me your pains as August
When in her brokeness cries with disgust
Let my soul sprout forth flowers
Be they wild and thorny
Be they hard and horny
For some of us just come already broken
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If must leave me, Lisa

If must leave me, Lisa Leave with everything but your scent That maddening scent of fresh nectars of wild roses If you must leave me, L...