Monday, September 8, 2014


I have no sunset waiting for me,
Nor do I own a ride to ride off into it,
I walk in circles into my own selfish miseries..
I have no birds singing for me at dawn,
Nor do I own a reed to make my own music,
Only a voice singing distractedly..
like echoes that hide inside a mountain,
waiting for a call to call back to,
And the ring the valleys with their eternal woes..

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