Like a Trophy
By birksy
Like a trophy, you were when I won you, though now, it’s all changed, we’re both the dying breed. Keep a space on the wall, for our heads, bruised through battles, not really worth much to anyone, anymore. Hold out hope, hold out hands, hold out for the last call, holed up in this castle stale in air. Take a picture, keep it hidden, no one here to see us proper, keep an eye for the hunter, we’re a game. Written January 4th, 2002 © on Jan 04 2002 02:21 AM PST, Simon Birks 0 • 1
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"Like a trophy, you were..."