The Boy
The Boy....scared wooden eyes, hell, I saw if even then, perhaps not yet knowingly, my swarm of insects depression, wheat cloudy and settling in like raindrop ticking dreams, unfiltered....The Boy Sign in to see full entry.
Matthew's scribbles: The Boy
By Mathenieu - About Me - E-mail this page - Add to My Favorites - Add to Blog List - See other blogs in Poetry
About this Blog
The Young... Auld lang syne when, au poivre, the sun seemed earthly and hung in the sky like a baleen, and laughing, we all rode in jitneys. something for the walls, for myself.
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