Rivers of Tears

I CRY RIVERS OF TEARS
THAT POOL AT MY FEET
UNTIL MY SWEET MEADOWS
BECOME STINKING SWAMPS
THE GHOST OF YOUR LOVE
HAUNTS ME THROUGH THE NIGHT
THE COLDNESS OF YOUR TOUCH
CHILLS ME LIKE AN ARCTIC BREEZE.

MUDCROW
DECEMBER 9 1998



Last Poem Home Next Poem
Email



An ItTookBloodyAges production by mudcrow
1