Grey skies tarnish me with
Acid rain
War-torn tv screens
Life is vain
Crowded shopping malls
Make me scream
Whiskey, Lexomil
Help me dream, of
Precious Things
Money brings
Savage daily grind
Earn my keep
Bloodshot, bleary eyes are
What I reap
Happiness
What is this ?
Help me see, through
Misery
Old man’s weary eyes
Look at me
Through the Sunday news
On his knee
Tender words, I
Seldom heard
Busy ears
Missed my tears
Wrinkled smile beams
Radiant warmth
Eyes cry innocence
Hope is born
Precious Things
That I bring, are
Words of gold
Fondly told

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