19.february 09
by the lakeside of a fantastic voyage
through syringes belated by withdrawal
lie seven gleaming onyx stones
broken from the same snow-covered hopes
that parade in a lone requiem
to the melodic submission
of the ground beneath weary steps
like morning toast dying bite by bite
in the greedy mouths of adolescence
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13 years ago
1 comment:
a winter morning, slow as the day but lost by footprints of the young, a hint of longing in the snow-covered hopes, a thought that runs through one's mind at a slow pace but ends very quickly - that's my respond to the poem, a burst of words that fell out... I think it's due to lack of sleep...
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