You're Free

at the end of every sunny day,
everything turns to grey clay;
it makes up quite an emotional stew,
as I try to figure out me and you.

the colors all fade away,
and everything moves too fast;
what I'd give if you would stay,
but after this time, I know it's past.

the sounds of time passing
fall crisply on my tired ears;
dreamed of us everlasting,
now I see through salty tears.

who's gone, and who's left behind?
I suppose you, and I suppose me;
oh, baby, just you never mind:
out of that cage now, you're free.



January 4, 2009, for She Who Must Now Be Forgotten.

Copyright © 2009, Ricky A. Pursley. All rights reserved.