Crocodiles in the Nile

Bittersweet sun, lost summer hopes and smiles. Tan like the backs of the black crocodiles. Sadness is a sickness best served in the cold. So the air conditioning runs till the sweaters unfold. I looked out the window and saw the last weeks. Craggy interior - ascents to new peaks. So let freedom uphold till the Fall collapses. I'll survived this winter too, like death and taxes. If the meek should inherit the Earth, let them wait until spring. I'm searching for something thats worth sacrificing. But I'm always looking for that summer smile That makes me wade up to my chest in the Nile.