There he was, whispering the goddamn song

underneath the grayest roof; the raindrops;

while his only friend was the pick

dancing on the broken strings.

On the opposite side of his voice were

the fakest smiles and a bunch of wannabes

marching on the reddish carpets

lying in curls on the wet soil.

A few blocks down the road was

his lover, cursing the swindlers;

begging for loonies to sum up her whiskey sips,

and refreshing her memories of the lavender fields.

He is on my mind while watching the pacific from up high.

She too is on my mind while sitting

in silver lights, surrounded by the black bows

and hydrangeas; the white and the lilac ones.

What a tiny world!

Him, her and I

are all playing;

playing hard at life;

singing along.

S