Drip (Late Night Musings)

Drip 

Drip

Drip 

Drip

Drip 

Drip 

Drip 

Drip

What is that?

It could be water falling from a mal-placed vat

Or the sound of my tears cascading onto the mat

It could be the blood dripping from a fresh, pink scratch

Or the silent squeal of guts from a bug squished flat

And do my musing change the sound of the pat

Or the drip or the squish or the plunk or the splat

Or do I sit here in wonder

And silence

And greed

And conjure my theories

While my friends choke 

And bleed

Drip

Drip

Drip

Drip

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