Apparently the sun is meant to shine for you,
The only thing is,
the forecast predicts rain,
or perhaps a cyclone.
Loose ends need tying up,
at the end of the day
Its always nice to see
a perfect suture.
In circles we roam,
around and around
a dire dirge,
a song that never leaves your throat.
Leave it to the hills and sea's
there must be a way to know
that cyclones are not meant
to be tidy finishings.
Slipped through my fingers sandlike,
a time inside a watch-minute
the whirring of another day intruding,
upon the perfect moment.
The only thing is,
the forecast predicts rain,
or perhaps a cyclone.
Loose ends need tying up,
at the end of the day
Its always nice to see
a perfect suture.
In circles we roam,
around and around
a dire dirge,
a song that never leaves your throat.
Leave it to the hills and sea's
there must be a way to know
that cyclones are not meant
to be tidy finishings.
Slipped through my fingers sandlike,
a time inside a watch-minute
the whirring of another day intruding,
upon the perfect moment.
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