You hand me your resignation and tell me that you are done
As you try to assure me that everything will be alright,
Because you have a plan, while you leave me standing here,
In the burning sun. And all I can do is watch you walk,
As my conversation becomes tangled up talk.
This no longer feels like the sun, it feels like rain.
And I`m afraid just like you, because we both know what
your going to find, I would rather go blind.
But who am I to tell you no, when all you want from me is to
Let you slip away, so I leave you with your lotto ticket and the
Numbers that you have just thought up, as you keep this winning day.
Gerard Taylor 31/5/09
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem