Like a ghost Emptiness haunted his years Still his heart was made of nothing less than good Insecure narration in his head Something less than schizophrenia Creeping him with every move that he makes Breath he takes A beautiful walk alone To his empty home Where he'll lay and he'll sleep by himself…
Go west
2008.10.19. 19:24 PHAndris
Szólj hozzá!
