Wednesday, January 17, 2007
Tenderloin 2003
A pile of sad songs
A few cheap cigars
Not much else left
A handful of dust that was
once a promising intellect...
How do we come to this
from the laughter of childhood
and all the promises of morning?
Nothing but an empty room and a broken window
and a chill wind making
hollow sounds in my heart.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment