Taxi Woman

Taxis Lights whip of the night,

this is the work of adults.

The philosopher and psychiatrist sits on the steering wheel

on the back. The rear bench seat

woman deceived pale as a sheet.

Cone full of suffocating feelings,

life more take than give.

It's like a pawnshop

the best feelings of the world.

This winter is just as rain,

Waterford flooded, it again

Evening papers the news gets.

The drunkard neighbor, overnight call

melancholic pop songs. Soul bruising

tells the story. Loneliness it

will be too much loving,

anger cloak on my shoulders to stretch out.

I am the woman in the taxi aimlessly,

without a trip to the head, which is happiness

take the only bright spot the early

morning hours to take the receiver.