Quarrel
Clouds have closed the afternoon in gray.
Those short words came forced from caught up tears
And spilled quick sparks into the air,
And all the things I meant to say
Are shut up till another time
While I bite my lip and turn away.
Clouds have closed the afternoon in gray.
Those short words came forced from caught up tears
And spilled quick sparks into the air,
And all the things I meant to say
Are shut up till another time
While I bite my lip and turn away.