Tuesday, 6 October 2015

Sun Rise




I met a man in the hills
He was in pain, I could see
I could see through his frenzy
and the cold day he carried within

He came from a time before
Before the world was small
His hair was wavy
and smile real

I wanted to look in to his eyes
but I was scared 
Terrified that I would see
some colour of despair

I wanted to hold his hand
but he was busy strumming
As the sun rose in to the red blues
he sang yellow to me

He is special
we all know that
his light
we all can see
but the brighter he burns
the darker his nights must be

So full he is
of the little that he knows 
A child he will always be

And breathless he leaves me 
when he begins to talk
I have a sudden urge
to kiss his mouth shut
and run my fingers
through his old world hair

No comments:

Post a Comment