no mercy: desolate

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

Friday, June 24, 2005

desolate

clock ticks by in blood bled wood fresh blood drips off the bench promise made isn’t promise kept rage is found digging through scraps trying to find the piece that tells me who you are because I don’t recognize you imagination rages last words run cycles dust bowl wind howls just me and these boots... Sign in to see full entry.

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