SriceCreativeService

They slide down your window, It wades across the pavement, Swims in the gutters, And explodes over ponds. The sun is tucked in bed, Resting its sore ill head. No more slow dancing, No more, any more. The lending hands --A lucky chance? All your worries drain away, A pot of gold waits for reward. Your life, It knows, The unstable --Not stable. There is no happy ending For merciless souls. They crash around you, It drowns your cheeks, Sticks to the Kleenex, And impounds the gay. The smitten splits into cracks, Shadowing their silly thrills. All more silent weeping, All more, all more. The worthless compromise, Barrica