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 parties
And hugs you when you are down
And uses warm, soft knives
To cut you into different pieces.
How can something else dress up as that?
Friday, August 06, 2010
Fatherhood
I am carrying the torch you Handed me Not handed. Placed Carefully This is sacred space. Was the carrying so heavy for you as well? Were yo...
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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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Final Thoughts From an AGM You want to mess with me? I can take you down a notch Spill the beans I’ll spill your blood Tooth for tooth, splo...
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Standing on a Hillside Sometimes you look back on where you have been Past the cloud-fluffy daffodils bobbing and green Through the deep dar...
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