Used To Be Me
By birksy
Mud on his shoes, smell of earth surrounds him, and a look of pure distance in his pale eyes, we do not surround him, he walks through his own world, I watch him leave through the carriage door, and do not pity or envy his life independence, I guess that he just used to be me. Written March 11th, 2002 © on Mar 11 2002 07:37 AM PST, Simon Birks 0 • 10
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"Mud on his shoes,..."