Monday, May 23, 2005

Thunderclouds

And when summer ends, will you still love me?
When tomorrow comes, will you still give yourself freely?
When the rain falls and the nights steam,
when the light sleeps and your eyes gleam,
will this be my unending dream?

I try to look at the bigger picture; it’s a grainy indie flick.
It’s got passion and grime, seemingly victimless crimes.
It’s a daily comic strip with no punchlines, just pure wit.
Bleed on thumb tacks and screws, blinking wildly on booze,
obvious metaphors for the wrong words we choose.

And when summer ends, where will this take me?
When tomorrow starts, will we still partake freely?
When your heart beats, I feel it.
When my heart beats, I know it.
Summer won’t end.
Don’t let the thunderclouds tell you otherwise.
Let's drown in the tears of dark, breaking skies.

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