Saturday, July 24, 2010

metaphors were never my forte, but i'm willing to try for you.

shattered glass
against the wall
leave the pieces
where they land
we can clean those up
once we've found time
to cleanse ourselves
purge our souls
of the wretches we've become
nothing sounds the same
when you're this far underwater
being whole means
fixing you first
as of late, i can't
grasp the concept
of your inner workings
wound like clockwork toys
we all must fall one day
some of us
will make progress
most of us
will hit a corner
get stuck
and die alone
i only hope
that i haven't been totally forgotten

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