Sooth say
A heavy stone skimming across a mill-pond. The sound of half a duck quacking.
Thursday, February 05, 2009
Poem of Random Typing while Tired
It's the colour of shine
Oh don't weigh me down
If I had a feather for everyone
Acting like such a clown
I'd maybe try to fly
Oh the fleece is warm and soft
Like the lining of your eyes
When the morning light plays havoc
On an unsuspecting mind
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