my cigar smoke,
matches the fog as it wanes on by.
deep circles in the pond of my heart,
ripple like rain comming on down.
Bessie Smith plays on the dail,
reckless voice, angel child.
coffe stained leaves fall wild.
winds picking up, dampened floors,
chilled like my spine.
tortured souls hum through the chimes,
discontent rattles my blind truths awry.
I never knew love till I heard it cry,
emancipated feverish wine.
heaving my hapiness up the way side,
I never knew surrender till I built a damn for the tears I've cried.
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