Sunday, October 5, 2008


open skies form a canopy
a cover that doesn't protect me
still i stand underneath
exposing myself to it's whims
gazing blankly at passing clouds
cringing from time to time
for these clouds seem to mock me
perhaps they see me for who i am
a groveling piece of flesh
a tortured soul
a confused mind
a complete fool
waiting for salvation
and if thats not my reflection i see
then who am i really?