Eight lines
Streaming down guiltless highway,digitally insane, suffused with daring,
one more moment, one more say,
the echo of constant attempt.
A cauldron of say-so boils
on the stove only day can.
Shadows fall through cracks
that break the face.
Poetry by Bob
Read 645 times
Written on 2008-02-02 at 21:30
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 by Bob Latest textsI seldom walkthere’s a rumor there will be no full stop so many regrets who am I |
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