June 15, 2009

• #1971

  let the tears fall through summer’s end

  to not let the same of me, my friend in life and death for nothing is more

  than me and me and meandmeandme for shore, that lines the water poor as mother’s carter’s pills poor chore.

  the sanity is mine and falling is fine, but i’d rather be here, wishing fine cheer

  than anywhere else one said is a bore.

  all problems can wait…as long and deep as eternal fate.

  -richard

  • 4:04 pm
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