My pockets
Overflowed with
Quiet desperation
And fell onto the street
As I walked -
Overweight aches,
Scars of illness,
Slivers of loneliness,
Littering the ground.
I collected them again
On my way home.
Always there
My pockets
Overflowed with
Quiet desperation
And fell onto the street
As I walked -
Overweight aches,
Scars of illness,
Slivers of loneliness,
Littering the ground.
I collected them again
On my way home.