Stephanie Forryan

Brush

Stephanie Forryan


I write my thoughts in the snow
So that they can be wiped away
Maybe by the weather or the wind
Perhaps your footprints get in the way

You nod and look into the distance
I smile although I’m sad
I look up then close my eyes
To feel the cold you
Brush… off… me…
You brush… me… off…

And I would
Tell you what’s happening here
Oh, I could
But I’d say too much
Oh I’d say too much

I cannot find the words to speak
But you listen anyway
My knees and my spirit are so weak
Oh, won’t you pull me through
Another day
A cold, cold day

And I would
Tell you what’s happening here
Oh, I could
But I’d say too much
Oh I’d say too much

So much, too much to say
And you'd brush me off

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