the masters hands
wandering walk of satisfaction i follow not a hope to hold i am a brain dead leash ed wood puppet dangling from the proverbial strings driven by my elders visions i strive to achieve their recognition there's always one more step ahead leading toward some blinding sadness through my blurry eyes i ponder am i happy in these headlights i think not my head will start to turn but your weight is falling down on me Written September 28th, 2001 © on Sep 28 2001 10:28 AM PST, Leah Carter 10 • 0
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"wandering walk of satisfaction..."