Hobby Horse
She just sits at home
And cries at everything
At milk spilt on the carpet
At children gone and grown
Freed from grasping apron strings
At the beach, she's a wreck
And her unkempt stare is back
To drive away pleasant company
And words that trail sympathy
Till nothing lives in her wake
Monday, May 02, 2005
I'm bad at vulnerability I like to tie off places Where mess might hide Might wander in to introduce themself Until I'm all kn...
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To slumber And not be tossed about Like an incomplete formula In the mind of a mathematician Is a good thing The solution Lies in reme...
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She shares the blame For Adam's fall So secure, attractive Brilliant in a certain view The essence of Enlightenment I see her raise her ...
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Shadow Simon says: somewhere along the way Shadow Simon says: you've lost sight of who you are Shadow Simon says: and you lost the words...
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