insomnia and the search for self-importance
erratic attempts of reviving the lost literary voice within my soul
Wednesday, September 2, 2009
Amidst rubble and gravel
plodding along a path
we can kick the can of coordinates
and try to do the math
Plot a course, stare at stars
of captains and mariners past
the albatross is off our necks
and we float free at last
1 comment:
Hannah
September 2, 2009 at 3:39 PM
Wow, deep. Nice man.
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Wow, deep. Nice man.
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