may I lay sorrow
on your soul for a little
still I cry

I lost the one poem
that defined my Father's death
I know him

time is relative
our perception is the same
time changes

ride the bus silent
yet the music in your ear
awaken you

draw this with sorrow
turn or your anger will live
no - silent

we are simple
little beasties

presume a
superior carriage

----

may I hold
your hand
let's walk

who are the way

what makes
them so unique

multitudes usurp
the truth we hold

spark kiss
our heart

steady affirmation
this thing called truth