For Mr. Harrison

I hear that Mother Nature's son has passed along,
and as my tears mingle with the shower's rain,
I want to devour the soap impression I've made
of him on the tiles with my fingertips.

I have been living with my eyes closed--
Yes, I have,
and so I must fix this hole where the rain
sometimes gets in
because
it is not dying
but
it is knowing
that we are all only sleeping,
waiting for the game existence to end.

**I tried something different with this poem; I used lyrics from Beatle's songs for most of the composition, except lines 2 and 4 are mine.**