Another gray day
Feels sad and old
Easter Sunday one day
Rains with cold
And I
I'm just worn out
My heart feels torn out
I fold
Come and get me black ranger
I'm not going anywhere
Everything that fell out of my pen
Were things I couldn't keep in
Everything that burned inside
I couldn't hide
Closed eyes
I tried.
Wednesday, April 19
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1 comment:
Yeah, I like how the author Isaac Asimov said it, "I don't create anything, I just take dictation from my brain."
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