The Lion's Book: A Poetry Collection

Dreary Confession

One, two, three, four--

The whispers drip and drop.

The sky is denim, dull and blank,

Just like your hollow, vacant stare.

Lead me to the place where

I, I can only dream,

I can only dream

And ponder shades of amber

That sometimes change to green or maybe even blue.

The whispers drip and drop again

And pour out like a child's tear.

Don't leave them behind like the shine of the sun;

Don't leave them behind like the silver-lined clouds.

Capture the secrets

That fall from my grasp

And don't let them run

Like the laughter in song.

Promise me shelter when

The rain comes along;

I've rusted enough

To last us forever.