« the road | Main | 08629 02A1 699513 »
February 17, 2008
no medium
blurred like a Monet
someone called him Oscar
I bet you didn't know it
these lines are like a forest
no one can hide there
just like everyone's poet
there are no handshakes
not on Sunday
there are no promises
about Monday
I'm running out of wisdom
I don't have any thoughts left
who's picking up the pieces
tomorrow morning?
Posted by nemov at February 17, 2008 11:06 PM
Trackback Pings
TrackBack URL for this entry:
http://www.nemov.net/cgi/mt/mt-tb.cgi/2018