like an alabaster box
left in a downtown manhole
you\'re a fragile beauty
yearning to break free
from an imprisoned soul
and like that prisoner
with not much to live for
you desperately seek things
that provide temporary comfort
with a parched throat
begging for the sweetness of honey
you\'re left at the mercy
of days you only wished were sunny
in the time it takes
to pull yourself
from this self-dug grave
you\'ll no longer remember these days
as you rest in the cool of the shade