Sanity comes in many shapes and sizes. Mine usually comes in penguin form. Following are what I term 'scribbles'. This almost-poetry is my attempt at self-expression.
Thursday, January 29, 2009
Lost
There's No rhythm in my head, No words on my lips, No flow from my fingers.
The Sky is falling in, This here is over there, I'm standing on my head.
My Ears are calling out, My heart is standing still, These words are falling dead.
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