'Free me… and I’ll fly.'
By blackheart
Silent children, writing proverbs on a wall. Painting tiny repartee, Without a cause at all. Understood but over heard... It must be time to fly... to soar amongst the clouds... Like a bird. Quiet men, washing words from the pavement. So much designation, Without any real payment. Uneasy but not perturbed... It must be time to fly... to fade against the sky... Like a bird. Wicked women... scraping adage on my mind. Scouring statements, I should of said sometimes. Unfelt but always hurt... It must be time to fly... to ride the turbulent highs... Like a bird. Written January 22nd, 2002 © on Jan 21 2002 10:03 PM PST, harry luck 0 • 10
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"Silent children, writing proverbs on a wall...."