Walk the rain with broken shield
Lost my way to travel cheap
The weather's bad, but feeds the fields
Hastening from sow to reap
Her caps are leading to the temples
Defining the windows of her soul
Walk the line, the rabbit's trouble
And cutting short the center pole
Guns and knuckle-dusters coat
Knives, chains, grenades and wire
Eyes that shine, while they gloat
About the brand of man's desires
Small banana acidophillus
Gratis, but she doesn't like it
Heavy thoughts for minds so porous
Seeping bile, tears and silt
Yellow line "you shall not pass"
The flood will make us late
Morning's dawn is grey, alas
And pushes through the sewer grate
My arrival was just past the hour
I was catering to the chimes
Another four for all these flowers
While I keep searching for the rhyme
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