burned flesh fled far
sticky keys make this difficult to type.
I wish I could write words
That sound like their art.
Roja Roja Roja
scooters, vacation, fall
I'll boldly type what's on my mind
And of the things that surround me.
Thursday, March 12, 2009
March 12th, 2009
Poem by Anonymous at 5:01 PM
Labels: dreams, life, photography, poem
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