Faces
I worry about the faces that I grace
Upon my fractured sculpture
Sometimes they smile
Sometimes they frown
But I worry that there is
No longer truth that belongs
To these faces
And I worry
That there will never be again
Our faces
The changing seas
Expressions that hover
Amongst Invalid scenes
Would you smile for a broken man
Would you wonder where he’ll be
In a day or two, maybe three
Eyes that reflect teary
For the most of common days
Will you comfort me
In the near distance
Where the rain will touch
Fresh air
The taste
The scarlet blue lake
If there was a time that I cared
It definitely is not now
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