my second family.
Hard times of self-made srife
Streaking tears have driedfor there are
no more to be cried.
My dummy I have spat
and now I have to live
with the consequences of that.
For time still goes on
and we are
just beats in it's song.
We have to make the best of life
even through hard
times of self-made strife.
03/03/06
Poetry by liz munro
Read 674 times
Written on 2006-03-03 at 04:17
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by liz munro Latest textsBlind, DeafLove stormy heart Soul Earthquake(pan tou m) Fate. My favoritesHurtingJourney man Rainy day thoughts Birds song The Sorry Poem |
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