Rivers of pain overflow from unceasing torrential rain.
The sun is held back behind a grey veil;
We live by sheer will alone —
Wanting to return to the joyful origins of us,
But there is no more home.
There is no more warmth in the bosom of our mothers,
Or the remembrance of cigar smoke
And the rough feel of the unshaven faces of our fathers;
We have been cold for so many winters.
We have been cold for so many winters.
For a time we had found warmth in lovers,
But even passionate kisses fade away;
Now we seek passion in wanting to live another day.
Flowers are brought for the dead;
A penny for your thoughts, but 
Constant overthinking causes dread.
Wanting to feel the aura of our younger selves again,
I see a boy that looks exactly like me,
And I reach for him wanting to tell him of the pitfalls ahead.
I scream hysterically to get his attention,
But he never turns his head.
Oh the tears we have shed;
The many tears we have shed.
Insidiously desolation feeds constantly on the soul;
Aged with torment and heaviness of heart,
Even young bodies appear to be old.
For the record, many entries have been written,
But still there are many stories untold.
The depths of me I hold onto
Like a rare diamond found in its raw form,
Yet to be cut and polished
To exhibit its true beauty and brilliance;
Somewhere near there is a true stillness
Like frozen streams through beautiful valleys
Where buffaloes graze in harsh winters.
I bathe in starlight;
I bathe in starlight;
Wrapped in the blanket of the covering of the night,
In nakedness I bathe in starlight.
I am forever a child of the night,
Running barefoot on dimly lit city blocks
Past where they sell pizzas by the slice
And colorful flavors of shaved ice.
Where the winters are long,
And the sorrowful sing songs
While old ladies in black with wooden and metal rosaries
Behind long funeral processions mourn.
Where tears fall on the bodies of slain sons
From the eyes of single and depressed mothers as they bawl,
And the hopeless and homeless light fires
In open barrels to keep warm in late fall.
We weep in torrential rainfall,
Covering sorrowful faces with worn hands

And praying fervently 
That the sad children will once again be happy
And do their dance.
The sun is held back behind a grey veil.
It is overcast with a chance of perpetual hail;

Three Hail Marys are said
And then a deep inhale;
Three Hail Marys are said
And then a deep inhale.

3 thoughts on “Overcast

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