Caught
Caught in your bucket of sorrow
Tossed away tomorrow
To late to cry.
Frost
Covered corset you borrowed
From that old fashion harlot
On that cold awkward sunset.
And now
It is somber and silent
It is nothing but violent
In this beautiful disarray.
Cry
To the lamented Christ
To the plaster of paris saints
That sit still on your night stand.
And the rupturing life
Wanes away
To the stars
And the tide.
Just so
This wind blows
Over poppies
Flowing fast
Flowing past
Past the Decembers
That
We just left hanging
Like a nail from a finger.
To late to mind
What's gone
Again without the sun
Again I left the one
To silent
Silent thoughts hanging
Hanging
Hanging me here
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Halloween is Right around the corner.. .
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Always, 
