Ully

Is it fear of rain, a bird on the wire, that you rage against, shuffling in the gloom, waiting by the fire, no one flies to you, many come this way, once pestered for hire, you look in their face, to do what you do, your eyes full of ire, must hate being you, no offerings made, a burnt out tyre, is all that you gave, someone else's due, others lost desire, nothing becomes you, the miracle you crave, turn tongues into liars, love you betrayed, a funeral pyre ?