Owtcast

Generally he was subdued to her
He would gaze at her pigtails dancing as she ran
He would quietly absorb her smile as a sponge cleans a child's spill
Soothing it calms his body from the wretched world around him
A simple frail body that takes his mind away from normalcy
Tal was a ancient rhyme that fed him warm thoughts
She was the tic to his tac and toe
The avenue was never blessed with a finer stroll
The rain fell, leaving marks of purity in this tainted scene
He would spin tales of make-believe one might deem insane
Although she had a man
A man standing small
He should be the man
For he stood tall
They were entwined with his vision of delusional grandeur
A sort of magic mystery that would simply rerun in his mind
Over
and
Over agian