could please just sweep away
and make mud of all the dust?
cascade your tears upon the floor
and weep from all your passion.
i am,
though simple,
alive and
breathing.
strip away all the metal and the rust
so you can tinker with my wind-pipe, shut.
so plain
and easy,
tight and
why compromise?
atmopshere black and insincere rats
scrach on down the floor.
i'll count one more time before
i close these doors.
so cold,
tired.
only waiting
for explanations:
buried before i'm dead.
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