Friday 11 September 2009 photo 1/1
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Time passes
Even when it seems impossible
Even when each tick, of the second hand
Aches like the pulse of blood, bihind a bruise
It passes unevenly
In strange lurches and dragging lulls, but pass it does
Even for me
Even when it seems impossible
Even when each tick, of the second hand
Aches like the pulse of blood, bihind a bruise
It passes unevenly
In strange lurches and dragging lulls, but pass it does
Even for me
Annons