JunctionA Poem by DreaSometimes the ride is not what we thought; nor is the destinationThrough the Silence; I now can hear, Rumbling timber to track. Belching from its stack. Over watchful eyes. Dare one ask the secrets carried inside?
Discreet. Learn things anew;
I've been waiting for you.
The comforts; The glow. I do; I wish to be in the know.
Ejected from its line; Silken, Corrupt. Alone. © 2008 DreaFeatured Review
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Added on February 7, 2008Last Updated on October 16, 2008 AuthorDrea6,500 feet up and no net, COAboutLong Hiatus...work has consumed much of my free time; not to mention my brain capacity. Written in child's scrawled hand on delicate skin; Marker tattoo faded to freckled trails whispering. She's.. more..Writing
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