you're too grey and this town has failed
time grabs me by the ankles
and turns my cheek away
from moments like
these
time twists my soul into distortion
paints my fingernails red
redredwine and
calculators in your eyes
time
twirls my fingers and whispers
that the trees will die and we
we will laugh at the moon
when there's no more holes
to hide in
i smile and turn to the girl next to me;
good morning miss sally lightfoot
i guess we weren't made for loving
Poetry by summerbreeze
Read 807 times
Written on 2006-10-15 at 17:27
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