lack of
By fictus03
this and that written said turned cliché and far scrapes the barrel’s bottom left in the emptiness writing someone else’s words or writing nothing at all verb changes and yet the story holds it’s shape the bird who sings the flower that blooms the sun that rises the light which fades heard it all before left with mere scraps to write grasping the already stripped bare tatters and what truly matters the clay that is used or the shape which it takes we can all paint with the same paint but its what we paint that defines us Written February 5th, 2002 © on Feb 05 2002 02:25 PM PST 10 • 0
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"this and that..."