the wind blows my window
i'ts near time to go
across the cold alley way
the dried leaves blow
outside every one's looking at me
but, their eyes look down; afraid to talk
is it them or me, my sanity or vanity
that makes them balk!
it's a San Francisco wind
blowing in
blowing the leaves around
i wanted to travel
but i'm locked in Chicago
with the Alburquerque blues
with all i have to lose
with the whole world from to choose
i'm back in my room, alone
with the any where i'm at, i'm still the same blues!
francis e.rudy
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/why-do-i-write-such-silly-stuff/
