Soft thrums of raindrops
Against scarlet canvas
Crushed flower petals
Bleeding out pink on
Oceans of grey puddles
Pooling on the asphalt.
Shorter days, lonelier nights
Blue shoes over fresh graves
Cracks on the warm concrete,
Forgotten in the solstice midst
And a song stuck between silence
Of a boy lost under his umbrella.
For all I know, the best is over
And the worst is yet to come
Is it enough? To keep on hoping
When the rest have given up?
And they go…
Set the tone to soft sepia and watch me come to life
Like my favourite vintage movies, but silence is optional
I hate to mouth the words but I know that I’m right
And it’s better than to face the music composed in your journal
What you see is what you get, but it’s more than it seems
Amid skylines and downtown fiction, stories of nameless streetcars
I’m waiting under an umbrella, seeing neon signs in rainy grey
Until your clicking red heels arrive to light the pavement up
For the film is never complete without a dazzling star.
I hate to say I told you so
But they love to say they told me
(Throw me into the fire
Throw me in, pull me out again…)