Her tears ran red down her cheeks like rubies,
And her eyes ran brown and true.
Like dusty pools, they stared like gold,
In the sunset, rise or blue.
But when they sat wet,
Like muddy holes,
Like a horse had trampled through,
You weren't sure, you wondered though
If maybe, perhaps, she was truthful with you.
The accidents, the foolishness.
The dramatic flurry.
If ever you met a thunder storm to fight past you in a hurry.
The attention, the anxiety.
The love and rush and castaways forgotten,
But never really.
Who was she, so Godly.
Ive met the freckled, and the golden child,
Ive seen the book-smart and the rotten.
Ive loved the business, the temptress,
But-
Ive never seen one so trampled on by her own silver clobbers.
Her lashes cut her eyes,
Her voice calls out in soft surprise
With every blink
And thought or think
She loves you then,
She dies.