Dark Clouds Rain Down Tears Washing Away Swirling Colors From The Clown's Face..
Gently awoken by traces of a distant dirge
Rolled out of bed and into the streets
Dark day skies made for dry eyes, I won't be there
To save them, nor will I hear their cries
This thought persisted. Almost kneading me.
Barren roads and no wind
Nothing to hurry the trash that matted the path before me. No birds or sounds of life
No hustle of commerce or urgency to be
Anywhere?
Looking around this place that have seemed so...
Prime just…
ContinueAdded by maggot on January 13, 2013 at 9:30am — No Comments
Added by Fay Dickson-- AKA doofs on January 1, 2013 at 5:57am — No Comments
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