Life. Stale bread pisons my soul, The voices yell, fighting with each other with me in the middle. I see what I have learned and yet still it does not make sense, I can not find the new story awaiting my arrival. The voices are now too loud as they have allways been, And yet only now am I not blind... Sign in to see full entry.
Monday, March 28, 2011
Saturday, July 31, 2010
Poetry.
Shall I compare the to a Winters night. Shall I compare the to a Winters night, The way your hair shines in the moon light. Your eye's are bluer than the bluest seas, As if someone has tainted them with the bluest of jellies. Your teeth are as white as beautiful pearls, I say this to you now you... Sign in to see full entry.