:: Thursday, February 05, 2004 ::

Hey I'm a teenager and I have a lot of free time and little paper in creative writing, so I just scribble stuff down then don't edit it and decrease my blog readership by posting random shit!

The rings slowly close up their gaps
to face a grasp on numbing chores
Mine is gone, on hers I wait
behind invisible doors

A remote enters from the right
and triggers much delay
Her face now fills with worried tears
as my spark turns away

A soggy pair of shoes turn filled
with misery of broken days
Reforged with touch of flesh on flesh
and radiant shades of grey

Left to right she pushed herself
a tustle of the two
Yet one lay lumped upon the rug
the lights burned grey to blue

The sandbox gone
Sinatra stays
Friends and foes
feel gone today

Lampshade
Burning
Turning
Learning

Stay
Back
With
Him

The more I read it, the better it sound but everybody is always obsessed with their own work.

:: Floydthebarber 2/05/2004 08:34:00 PM [+] ::
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