Anne S Poet Rhyme

Wooden Floors

Down in the willow tree grove where the blossoms grow 
there lived a fancy-shmancy lawyer 
When she cried, she cried tears of soil 
and shaved away at what branches coiled 

She climbed mount everest to look for a friend 
but found the snow the same as the sand 
She worked her way through the weeds 
looking for sunlight, like everyone needs 

The tears bled through the ground like glass 
flooded and waiting for the storm to pass 
She cried and she cried and she waterlogged her home 
No more wooden floors for a place meant for stone

Down in the river there lived an employer 
Charting a course to find a reputable name 
When there was nothing there that she could find 
That whole river, it was all but drained

The tears bled through the ground like glass
Flooded and waiting for the storm to pass
She cried and she cried, and she waterlogged her home
No more wooden floors for a place meant for stone

No more wooden floors for a place meant for stone

She read Molière and listened to Swift 
and let her mind wander and drift 
What do lawyers do when they retire? 
Do they part ways with society and extinguish their fire?

But in the city, there were no trees
And isn’t that also what everyone needs?
Maybe the machine is truly broken
Maybe this is the true lucky token

The tears bled through the ground like glass
Flooded and waiting for the storm to pass
She cried and she cried, and she waterlogged her home
No more wooden floors for a place meant for stone

Down on the ground there lives a person
Laying there because she comes from the sky
But when she cries, she cries tears of soil
Reluctantly grateful that her plans were foiled

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