I’m afraid of you dear,
What pulls me in close is that fear.
Your mind is that book I frankly don’t understand,
I wish I could grasp it like the cigarette in my hand.
Taught to keep near but stay clear,
Lets go hiking on your trail of tears.
You broke the wine bottle,
Let me taste that cement soaked, wasted sorrow.
Never once was there finality,
I was waiting for a grand finale with fireworks for onlookers to see.
From time to time finding someone gracious I would borrow,
A forgetfulness of today and an overenthusiasm for tomorrow.