To Wooden Endings

Another night fell dead on the barb-wire fence
It flew; it fled from a few blades of light
No remorse; no fear
Just pain in vain
Could you do something about the blotting red,
while I sit here tied to the stump of a dead tree??

The sky is hot glass & wishes have wax wings
Some lie beyond; some die within
No end; none mends
They won't stay; they can't go
Could you do something about the dripping wax,
while I sit here tied to the stump of a dead tree??

Words are entangled in smiles & camouflages,
each time they bump into my blue-eyed boy
No chalk; no charcoal
No ink; no lead
Could you do something about the unwritten thoughts,
while I sit here tied to the stump of a dead tree??

& any day you need to furnish
your museum of hearts
Just look up; don't look too far

I sit here tied to the stump of a dead tree!!