

Warm SunSunless days on a paper plate of my face down in the grateWarm Sun
two lines imbedded in my head the masses think that i am dead
dreams not of many come to shore of life when it was not a bore
grand fodder to these of many known of places seen and never shown
ramblings of words i cant peruse use of them is not abuse
silver tape across my lips golden rope around my hips
Sunless days on a paper plate of my face down in the grate
two lines imbedded in my head the masses think that i am dead
the ma
Heartless.....
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The Fish Bone Tree Blog
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::a plague gained through the loss of innocence::
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Bob (21:31:19): I prefer less tentacles and less testicles, but the dresses is cool :-P
~SC-net-club
Scraps check = good idea.
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