Like crushed petals
The shards of innocence tumble
The softly spoken whispers of childhood
Float away on the wind
Like a broken bird
I wait with wings folded
Head bowed, weeping.
For the illusions of the lost.
Monday, November 29, 2004
Here it is, there it was, then it will be.
Links
Drasago Feeds the ChaosAnnette Keeps the Sanity
Financial Spilt Milk
MY POETRY for your perusal
The Grey Angel
MMMMM... Cake
Something Positive
Sanitycheck
Sort through the political BS yourself
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