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| Don't start a big riot if I'm being quiet. I have no exuberance to foment your jubilance. Don't prop up my arms to welcome your charms. The world doesn't revolve around your own resolve. Don't prod me and poke to get me to joke, But recognize my need to silently bleed. I'm a little too low to be your rainbow. I have nothing to say, so let me be gray. 2-9-02 "Gray" |
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| To Self talking, Distraught, walking In the gray fall. I heard the wood call. Sought mother's womb - Found Self, entombed In bed of leaves 'Neath towering trees. Skies turned stormy, And they tore me From dream I dreamed. Comforting, it seemed. 3-5-02 |
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