Wake me up
in May...
Weaving through
the gum trees...
This desolate night
Clear cold stars float down...
My grandfather owned a farm in Ireland;
he was everything to that land...
Me wonders how the years
have been flying with no wings...
Among other things he once failed to...
Is...
Running on
empty perspectives...
There's no quietude
everywhere I turn to...
Dear reader,
eons ago, I used to sing...
Solitude,
you visited my life in my gloomy times...
A young boy once asked me, "ma'am, pardon my...
To which I replied...
Fame
Destructive Disguise...