the poem of Silence
By nikxi36
Crisp cool fresh And the milk runs dry and the milk runs dry You look at my with your pretty eyes And they milk turns cold and the milk turns cold Crushing, slushing, brushing And we all turn awayI'm not sure how anyone will react to this since it's very abstract. If you don't understand it and would like some clarificaton you can ask me! Written February 25th, 2002 © on Mar 31 2002 05:46 PM PST 10 • 0
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"Crisp cool fresh..."