Starry 
Starry night 

portraits hung in empty halls 

frameless heads on nameless walls 

with eyes 

that watch the world and can't forget. 

Like the stranger that you've met 

the ragged men in ragged clothes 

the silver thorn of bloddy rose 

lie crushed and broken 

on the virgin snow. 

And now I think I know what you tried to say to me 

how you suffered for your sanity 

how you tried to set them free. 

They would not listen 

they're not 

list'ning still 

perhaps they never will.


Beautiful things.