Journal: -------------------------------------------Mood: The Usual Drift, as I waste my time
Wasting yours,
We are the slaves of the sun
My brother was a pilgrim
Of saint velocity
And as I dream about dreaming
I give my condolences
To Mrs. Beetle
Knowing all she is going through
They sidetrack me, hunted,
The real voice hides in
The most untidy place
Where we abandon the change
And return to those
Who have flown away
...Created 2006-09-11 13:57:56 [ View Past Journals ] [ View as Blog ] |