December 2009
Tailored sheets, to fit this dirty bed, for once the dirt won't come all off I can’t be pushed aside. Wind is blowing thru closed doors With shadows dancing in the hall Now hit the floor, crawl to
I'm only patient enough to please the masses for so long. My brittle arms cannot hold up all the walls in this falling tomb. I'm only caring enough (Drowning in expectation.) To love oppressors for so