K
By narcissa
Tue, 28 Sep 2004
- 886 reads
When it rains
I cry in sweet compassion
(or, at least, I wish I cried)
Perhaps I cry inside my head
inside my heart
the steady drip of blood tears
life ebbing
and watering seeds of hope
(or of despair?)
And I cannot find a way out
I cannot find a way out
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