 |
awoo
|
 |
An old throwback to a poem I wrote named Down. I thought it was time to move past it.
|
 |
We need the kind. Yet still, we keep the vicious.We run in circles, killing to love.Why is that? Because with peace we do not progress. We do not chan..
|
 |
A time for longing,a time for play.A place to sleep the day away.A time for thought,a time to move.A place we fall in unknown grooves.I won't move,but..
|
 |
They say hope dies last.
|
 |
Try as I might, I can never seem to hide certain things well enough.
|
 |
Don't get me wrong, I know I'm not a stalkerBut with how often I find myself idling in common groundsit's hard not to question.I find myself hoping to..
|
 |
Of course I work in allegory.
|
 |
My cries are horrible thingsmuch more like convulsions than anything elseThey come and they goThey ebb and they flowAnd I hope to hide them forever.Ca..
|
 |
YouTo hold you,know you, to feel you.I live blessed in your presence.Our time isShort and fleeting,andWarm and wounding,but I would rather wound mysel..
|
 first  prev 1
|
|
Profile
Writing
Friends
Share This