With the splatter of the rain
Upon my sub urban roof,
The pains of the day,
On half time mode,
I roll like a sleepless infant,
Stretching to grab,
Not Mama's meal
To feed my hunger,
Yet I hunger, for your touch,
Your warm embrace,
The sweet smell of your skin,
The allure of your fruity hair,
All I need of this thorny world,
Is for you my love,
To cuddle me.
©richvic
R