cold, setting, lightness
spinning the wheel
on a box full of treasures
how does it feel?

Are you...numb?
Say you'll save me.
Just remember to try,
to mean more than "maybe"
and stagger to fly.

Does it mean more to clouds
than to a wandering wind?
And if the end is the tragedy,
then how did it begin.

Do you cry?
My wasted, tasteless
beautiful flower.
Do you mind if I save you,
if you can't find the power?

And could you try,
to fake sweetness,
instead of fake sour?


Would you mind if I cried by your side?

01/03/2005

Author's Note: One constant stream of writing. no edits. just typing.

Posted on 01/04/2005
Copyright © 2024 J. P. Davies