waiting for the buckets to fill this is my life no (Remove filter)
wallance hunting bastard tartan prayer (4/30/2015)
ye rest not
and do not cry for the departed
the driving rain bears no sympathy
for the spiritually destitute,
nor the broken hearted.
the lost and found carry
the same umbrella
woven with holes
for our hands to do their want and will
as fencers thrust and parry
as a whore simply loved too wreckless
as the drunkard just tries to spin
keeping quartz with a heavy draught of life
a...
Thursday 30th April 2015 1:52 pm
Recent Comments
keith jeffries on Moving like Jagger
9 minutes ago
Kara-Fé Burrows on ‘I miss you mummy’
13 minutes ago
Hélène on ‘I miss you mummy’
17 minutes ago
Bethany Sallis on In Winters wake
17 minutes ago
Hélène on The wall clock
31 minutes ago
Hélène on AUTUMN
41 minutes ago
Ciaran Cunningham on AUTUMN
1 hour ago
Greg Freeman on 'Shall I compare thee ...?' Shakespearean or Petrarchan, why is the sonnet still popular?
2 hours ago
Sunshine on Barking dogs seldom bites
3 hours ago
John Coopey on WHO DO YOU THINK YOU ARE KIDDING, MR STARMER?
3 hours ago