THE COLLECTOR
The first had names of months
Like a calendar of cries
Like a calendar of lies
They left me lacking, wanting more
Ran outta months so I chose days
My week of cries
My week of lies
They left me lacking, wanting more
Winter, Summer, Autumn, Spring
My seasons of cries
My seasons of lies
They left me lacking, wanting more
Thirty days hath September…April June and November
My year of cries
My year of lies
They left me lacking, wanting more.
All the rest have thirty-one
My proof of cries
My proof of lies
My book is full…I am done
Courtesy of The Web
