Dark Poetry #4 |
the white bus |
mysticpoe Senior Member
since 2003-02-28
Posts 883 |
Falling one million miles per story. My mind facing in the passing pages promised. As the endless outreach of Those, stained and lasting hands of the forever multitude. Always seemed one day behind me. With answers to why, the cold is lonely in winter. The sun feels closer, when we smile And the blood, the color of life is tortured by horror. Our cries, the domain of life is still waiting, waiting, for the white bus to arrive. If nothing is something |
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Lexy Senior Member
since 2003-01-28
Posts 1038California |
and we all continue to wait nice...honest..and well crafted. |
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