-
-
-
my feet are chained by imagination's grasp
hesitant to move, I plan each step
-
-
-
-
Forlorn beauty trapped
within checkered halls
-
-
Clarion calls
in flumes of
-
-
-
-
-
-
fact can be fantasy when we dream
actuality doesn't need to be grim
-
the stench of change resembles colors
tangled hair falls long in cords
-
Colorful symphonies of hip-hop
instruments, collide;
-
-
By callus words
of love untrue
-
30-40 words "Moon flower"
-
My rubber fingers collide
-
-
-
-
-
-
Her blonde braids
stole the sun.
-
Fluid motion flowing in waterfalls cascading
traveling ever downwards they fall.
-
Darkness creeps
enveloping thee,
-
|
