![]() XXXA Poem by Tim Lion
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Children dissolve into the front lawn, Hairs individually lose color and fall, Sharp eyes dull and pain crawls the frame. The old machine becomes a rusty derelict With a flaking façade and tetanus intentions. I hear that, Sometimes, Strays go there to die. © 2011 Tim Lion |
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1 Review Added on February 24, 2011 Last Updated on February 24, 2011 Author![]() Tim LionLake Worth, FLAboutSometimes, when the moon presses her naked chest to my window, and my wife is carving the value from trash scraps, I feel like I may never be able to outshine my finite timeline. And the worst part is.. more..Writing
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