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Post by garrett on Sept 10, 2011 23:24:49 GMT -5
weep not in those cold murky hours before the dawn. cry no tears for my life as it was. as i sit here talking to my ghosts....old friends of mine. translucent bitter rags waving at me. bemoaning our mutual fates. in the field across from my old life sits the scarecrow..... worn of life and limb he sits mocking me. a caricature of a man held up, while frozen in time. waving at forever while the wind pulls at his/our straw. in feet of cold clay i trudge toward tommorow... towards a whispered instictive hope.a promise of better days. i will shed my bonds.......i will find my life...... beyond where the sun sets......... in fields laden with golden dreams...... of what might be?and what is yet to come.
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Post by bella18 on Dec 29, 2011 0:54:28 GMT -5
Did you write that, red??
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Post by garrett on Dec 29, 2011 1:53:42 GMT -5
Did you write that, red?? smiles yes........ hope it wasn't to bad.......if so my apolagies......
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Post by bella18 on Dec 29, 2011 2:27:48 GMT -5
Bad? No way...very good. You should put your writings in a book; or at least, a journal of sorts. Good times and bad - bet your daughter would love to read your thoughts someday.
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Post by garrett on Dec 29, 2011 15:13:02 GMT -5
blushing in texas.
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