I wish I could remember
What his real smile looked like
When he was happy.
I wish I knew how he felt
When he let the rain stream down his face
In tearful currents.
I wish I knew what made him
A beautiful marble statue of a wanderer,
And what made him empty out his dreams.
A melancholy harmony of guitar, perhaps?
A sway of candles, like stars?
A touch of dusky watercolor twilight?
He sits now,
A cigarette burning in his hand
Simply to keep his fingers from shaking.
Enclosed in his sterile room,
His eyes are clouded with smoky blankness
And pale skin is kissed by the shuddering strain of loneliness
That door to human warmth is closed now
Aloft atop a spiraling stairway
Poised on the edge of a cherry blossom petal.
He thought to make his mind like a sea
Deep, quiet, unruffled
A crystalline surface, flat and clear.
It never occurred to him that he might drown.
A/N: Actually, this was written for a school project. But I love it anyway. Reviews, please?