la luna ticks
the boxes
that make up
the madness
bleeding through
absentee
tear ducts
the fountain
remains dry
as the sad
little cherubs
blow horns
that will never
ring clear
through yellow light
in the gray skies
above
la luna ticks
the boxes
that make up
the madness
bleeding through
absentee
tear ducts
the fountain
remains dry
as the sad
little cherubs
blow horns
that will never
ring clear
through yellow light
in the gray skies
above