From the cubicle to the coffeehouse : Faded Pictures

By S_Logan_Poetry - About Me - E-mail this page - Add to My Favorites - Add to Blog List - See other blogs in Poetry

Wednesday, April 1, 2015

Faded Pictures

Fond memories Tortured flashbacks Warm days Cold nights Flying high Crashing to the ground You embrace me with napalm Rub me on my shoulder with the left hand and tell me things will be ok Then jam an 8 ball into my right arm just to have control over me again How did we get here? How did something... Sign in to see full entry.

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