Jonny, who was it that said
"A white wall may seem empty
But it's ready to be filled
And, in its readiness, needs nothing
It stands complete"
Was it you?
I don't remember
But it makes me wonder
Jonny, why couldn't you be ready, too?
I was ready, ready to be happy
Ready for that long look that never ends
And, now, I don't know what to do
Yes, Jonny, I'll say it
This is a love song, isn't it?
Yes, well, I guess this is how it ends
A strange poem about a plain and ready white wall
One with many questions
And a dog as speechless as that same wall
And the sorrows of love's slow passing
Goodbye, Jonny