99yfA Poem by Wraith.
Fragile mornings, vacant mists swirl into nothing
I never did eat cereal first thing These days always seem to repeat I dissolve into music and bleed out til' I'm free Who paints pathways such a wretched grey Envious of winter fields I wish they would hold me laid out bare in the grass like a huge open womb I wander through, what else is there to do?
© 2014 Wraith. |
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1 Review Added on October 13, 2014 Last Updated on October 13, 2014 AuthorWraith.warwickshire, United KingdomAbout“I have absolutely no pleasure in the stimulants in which I sometimes so madly indulge. It has not been in the pursuit of pleasure that I have periled life and reputation and reason. It has been.. more..Writing
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