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cowboy poetry

o céu
eu estou morrendo
minha alma é um campo ploughed escuro
porque então, a obrigação nós vê?
os prayers brancos pequenos
deixe o unsaid encantador das palavras
e enquanto nós andamos a grama foi agitada fraca
encontra-se aqui uma senhora a mais bonita
todos quiet ao longo do potomac
uma sombra cinzenta fina na borda do pensamento
os drowses pálidos do dia no ocidental embebem
o dia é feito
não seja falso
em seu vôo

 



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