Upon her pedestal she patiently waits
Here in the rain's patter I contemplate
In thought of rain that saturates
As often times my walks in storms
Produce patterns that flow in me
Raindrops are like tapping fingers
Making their intervening plea
Like minute voices who say to me
Get your mind on your life
The beat of a heavy marching tune
To the sound of the drum and fife
An airplane soars in clouds above
As I am below in motion of thought
People walk around me and glance
Knowing my mind can't be bought
Go against the flow baby
Rub against the grain
Emerge from the shell that encompases your hell
In this demeaning relentless rain
~Moses~
© 2006 Moses Lestz - All Rights Reserved
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