The clouds that gathered turned to rain
The candles on your sill burned out
The weather on your face
Turned to match the mood outside
Reading through poems that you saved
That make the gloomy hours make sense
Or do they lose their power
With the yellowing of age
I saw you suffering
Through a foggy window in the rain
When you thought no one was watching, yeah
Going through your memories
Like so many prisons to escape
And become someone else
With another face
And another name
No more suffering
You sold the best of yourself out
On a chain of grey and white lies
One syllable at a time
You should have made them pay
A higher price
yellowing
yellow
window
white
weather
turned
tired
tightly
through
thought
thing
their
syllable
suffering
watching
stars
somewhere
someone
should
gloomy
create
gathered
hours
everybody
cracked
yourself
clouds
could
poems
become
escape
going
dirty
climb
drink
outside
sense
ashamed
foggy
imagining
burned
power
regrets
braided
coiled
candles
match
moment
grows
chain
harvest
higher
imagination
inside
looking
memories
somebody
mouths
prisons
packing
another
place
plant
price
train
sorrows
ashes
reading
saved
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