tuesday morning
sketching teardrops
on the pavement
waiting for a bullet
to bite me in the back
with black memories.
i am a stranger standing
on the middle of a road from
nowhere leading nowhere
with my backpack full of sand
and a thousand ton of emptines
painted on my feet like those
dreams you wish you have every
night that becomes
nothing but darkness.
i am a stranger looking
for pieces of mystery...
of why there isnt love without leaving?
sunset on my face
shadow on my back i search
the sky for something to hold on to,
finding strangeness in the arms of
aloneness and abandonement.
i am a stranger wounded by life
waiting for a prayer
and a ride back home.
i am stranger waiting
for a song.
