No ghosts allowed
On hallowed ground
The shallow sound
It's sinking
We're thinking
Like brains of the sun
Bullets from a gun
The short straw isn't fun
It's blinking
And letting the blurr slide.
Wednesday, February 13, 2008
On being inside time
I lose myself inside today Rattling against walls Smooth unmarked unyeilding With the futility of An unwatched clock Today is much too vas...
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It must have been love That sort of thing Can't be mistaken For a lesser set of feelings It has a special hat And makes you welcome at p...
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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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I’m tired I’m tired of my heart giving out Whenever it gives in That things being the same Never makes a difference Of looking forwards to s...
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