an: right. i've move ALL my poems to this thread, 'cause i'm doing some spring cleaning. my profile looks so much neater now, though i do regret having to ditch all my hits and reviews. sigh. oh well, thats were progress gets you...


your umbrella was only a rusty frame
and it was raining so hard it hurt.
the street was almost as empty as your home
and you liked the way no one ever knew.

it was cold, and you were shivering
and you thought crying was beautiful.
your smile quaked and moved,
yet it had never been more true.

(you saw the headlights
but you did not move.)