Jul 25, 2007 17:40
If disturbance has a name, it must be similar to ours.
All she speaks of is the
time we waste
and the tounges
and the tastes
and the fun that
she's never had
but always dreamt about.
BEcause dreams are
natural, dreams are
beautiful, dreams are
powerful, and self-rightous.
Dreams are Aspirations
in the dark, The matchbox
empty and the oil lamp dry.
We'll be the rocks
held tight by the
little dirt scuffed hands.
They will throw us
over the fence, not knowing
where we're going.