Deep and MeaninglessA Poem by Heather RodwellThis is somewhat thought prokoving. Pour yourself a glass of wine, sit back and read this slowly and thoroughly. Then comment.This is the time for remembering long forgotten fears. The rambling of thoughts obscure the black of night booming upon us like a thunder clap. All sense dies away, and all thats left is the misery within. The fear that consumes us. That scared little girl crouched in the corner, eyes wide with fright. The sweat on your brow glues your hair to your face, creating a sheild between fantasy and reality. Never stop, until you're dead. © 2009 Heather RodwellAuthor's Note
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Added on October 22, 2009 AuthorHeather RodwellCape Town, South AfricaAboutAs a normal human being would, I'd do things, see people and go places. Yet I see everything in a different light. I watched my grandfather die, and instead of crying, I was inspired. I have a morbid .. more..Writing
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