Monday, March 14, 2005

Joan of Are

Awaken child of the moral slumber
The life you seek seeps gentle away
Unbeknownst and unbeckoned, say
You would remain aloof of rotting lumber
As eyes fold to the backs of translucent
Pears of the sapling unhappiness
Alive and unmoving, distressed
To turn through cycles of chatter insolent
And behold you are awash inside and out
Truth pines earnestly but lies alone win out.

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