
Sleeping and dreaming in this miserable darkness make up.
Certain for sure of empty congregational movements along the river bed.
Some still steal looks, pain is the reason for cowards beliefs.
Are you bold enough to be a coward like me?
None to guide my way in this hasty dusty tunnel to the underground.
Where I write my post it notes and farewells to those I've long since noticed have left.
Poetry is but the long hoped for excuse of wanting to be alone.
Cover my face with sunlight, burning greatness at the weakness in me.
Rattling bones as I close in on myself.
She was just the We in Because not needed.
I waited for Your sign in the night skies along the tree lines just like old times.
Times times and half a time, need not be does it matter ?
Dru
The Wall