Naked Pictures Of Voices In My Head, Again!: Old Man

Monday, April 28, 2008

Old Man

Old Man Cold are the hands of father time Grabbing at my flesh, you see No matter where I finally hide He always seems to find me In the mirror he stares at me Laughing like a child At night he dwells within my bones Old man, leave me alone Everyday, year by year He takes a piece of me I count the... Sign in to see full entry.

posted by CRShelley at 4:31 PM | add or view comments (10) | leave calling card | link to this | view only this entry
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The colors in the rainbow in the water puddle at the gas station as the wind gently ripples it just before your huge foot stomps a new design in what will soon relax back to its peaceful origin.

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