Razor Blades. Poem by Gerard Ohare

Outside its raining razor blades.
And everybody's bleeding.
Inside its little better as the seeds of hate are seeding.
But me i'll keep it simple see.
Take pleasure in my toil.
I'll slake my thirst on the morning dew and feast upon the soil.

The wind had blown a thousand miles then paused outside my door.
She whispered tales of southern gales and shipwrecks on the shore.
She expressed regret before she left for taking up my day.
What could I do? I said adieu!
Then sent her on her way.

Outside the rain has finally stopped.
And everyone is healing.
Inside the seeds have failed to sprout and hate has turned to feeling.
And me I, ll keep on breathing see.
Thats how to take the air.
I'll share a glass with a bonny lass.
And kiss her windswept hair.