mingle your tears,
to a fountain that's blessed,
an image is clear,
and so' ain't your quest...
for every drop that enters in sorrow,
a place that is made is waiting n' morrow,
so' go don't delay,
a simple man' task,
a beauty so' gay,
a mother's ample breast,
to leave you with question,
in thought, or in fear...
I'll guide you in fashion,
my hands hold you near...
a powering shuffle,
to one's strongest might,
didn't I tell you?
I never tought you to fight?
a sudden contrition,
a flicker, a scene
to make with confusion,
a towering phene,
a little is something,
but nothing is mean,
just live for the moment,
and be and let be...
Adding your comment: