pages.

pages.

A Poem by Boyd Johnson

 

Pages

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Pages

                        Pages

 

            Pages

 

           PAGES

Pages

 

                      Pages.

 

Mean nothing.

When the man who fills them,

Is empty.

© 2008 Boyd Johnson


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Arn't you just the experimental type after all. I like its bite, and it plays out in length like a punk song. Short and powerful.

Posted 16 Years Ago



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Added on May 20, 2008

Author

Boyd Johnson
Boyd Johnson

the great and oft forgotten north of nyc. poughkeepsie., NY



About
a freak. an outlaw. a hot piece. -j.m. a hometown boy who loves the hudson, his drink, and his hat. hiding under the train tracks, with a bottle of irish moonshine, toasting to it slipping thro.. more..

Writing