Wednesday, May 07, 2008

Sort it Out

I try but straight lines
Seem to vear away
Concentration
Seems to tear away
Behind the brightness
All lights turned on me
A ship sailing with no rudder
Till everything is utter
Cacophony.

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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 ...