Whitney

Is it love of rain, or a blown out tyre, that you lean against, shuffling in the gloom, asking who is for hire, no one jumps for you, problems they just look away, all a bunch of cryers, no-one's easy or brave, to do what you do, your eyes in the fire, see beyond these blues, make offers to the saved, bend an old fish wire, this is what you give, whisper for someone's due, anyone to enqire, some body to stay true, be the one to rise.