Thursday, December 23, 2010

Photo

They were all of them framed
In the gold of darkness' birth
Hung on a moment's wall
Painted by the synthetic flash
Of a machine turning chemicals
Into a ragged handfull of emotions
For anyone who would glance back.

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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 ...