When I die, I pray It will be after I stow My luggage in my Private cabin, the Locomotive departs; I Slip into a dream.
Month: September 2020
He always wanted Something worth dying for. But He was alive, in Spite of himself. He Wondered if the French Foreign Legion would take him.
She has given thought To the pattern of sparkle on The ceiling, and she Would have preferred for It to have been uniform, Consistent. My
Stop the clock and turn It back, all will be renewed. Delicious new wine. Spin that wheel, watch what Happens. We saved the best for
I identify with My wobbling dented metal Water bottle now.
By The River
I went down to the Other side, waiting by the Water. Voices in My head had told me To watch for a bird. Sometimes Doubt
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