Tuesday, July 05, 2005

Twist the weather
In your clouded mind
The shutters hanging
Light as a feather
Between toadstools
On the forest floor
You store your health
Under a thousand rainbows
Only to get there and find them gone.

Another gander at
A heart attack
When you're just not in it
We will grant you the nod
On your grand piano throne
Plucking out the tune
Of your slow demise

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After a busy day when confronting admin

 We must all come  Find ourselves And we will all be found Regardless  As the sun finds the morning As breath finds the lungs As I am found ...