Under construction;
Turn a new direction.
A time for reflection,
Process and function.
An old way of feeling,
A new way of dealing with it.
An old grey and wearied
Floats gently in the window.
Carve paths through the clovers.
Turn the sheets over.
Start afresh, avoid stoicism.
A mission easier said than done.
This is a mess.
I am a mess.
My skin is a mesh -
Full of holes.
It lets too many things in
And holds onto memories grim.
I do not sin,
I am a sin.
Embody things immoral,
Dreary and hollow.
A hard act to follow.
Thursday, May 05, 2005
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