Cloudy Street Poem by Timothy David

The sun comes up in the morning
Offers up a brand new day
But your facing west
off the other way

As the those rays shine down
On your back
your sitting there waiting
For things that won't come back

The world outside is glowing gold
But what you see is as black as coal
Through the eyes of the peasant the pain roots deep
And you've gone and moved all your stuff down To cloudy street

You surround your broken heart With a tomb of bricks
The dead look on your face says there's nothing left to fix

But the world is a tool box filled with the tools that you need
I am the soil and your heart is the seed

The world outside is glowing gold
But what you see is as black a coal
Through the eyes of the peasant, the pain roots deep
And you've gone and moved all your stuff down To cloudy street