we’re covering the same old ground,
on each word, we obsess:
the fields are neat and ordered, but
the human heart’s a mess
things go as they are wont to go;
they come, and pass away —
new crops upon the same old ground,
another
yesterday
Other People's Feelings
we’re covering the same old ground,
on each word, we obsess:
the fields are neat and ordered, but
the human heart’s a mess
things go as they are wont to go;
they come, and pass away —
new crops upon the same old ground,
another
yesterday