scents of pain
down and out
jumping time
on skid row
painting signs
letting hurt loose
as my protection runs low
so in the frame of your mind
I plant words
blooming at night
scents of pain
haunting us at day
broken promise at large
and the river runs perfect and still
close to the house of forgotten words
we searching the source
in a foreign language now
Poetry by kath
Read 496 times
Written on 2007-03-08 at 07:13
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Kathy Lockhart |
