It's an innocent thing
A few words hauled aloft
By a question mark
Hanging there, quite unaware
Of the mounting cost
That anchors the answer in silence
Nothing more than a question
Nothing less than his soul
He would shed the words like a tear
Or rip himself in two
To sustain the illusion of silence
Thursday, December 18, 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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