Thursday, January 31, 2008

Trace amounts of exported emotions
Noone holds the line like you do
I fill in the empty sentances
Which convey all the meaning I never felt.
You stay just the same

No comments:

How do I lose myself?

I am not easily misplaced Or forgotten, Arriving as I do Before even the curtains draw And that first morning jug boils, Bleary, yes Grudgin...