Mutually. These buttons are pressed and these...
Assured. That these weapons of war will leave...
When winter prevails a poet's mind,
The words like leaves wither and fall...
The mighty sun has seen
and beamed beneath my blunders...
My chest is cold and I'm left feeling less
than I am...
Broken is not the word
My heart is torn...
There's something almost nostalgic about muffled...
padding softly down dimly lit sidewalks and across...
When mother land she needs me,
my mother land she feeds me...
I,
Simply...
40 days and 40 nights have passed as
I've stared expressionless at...
I’m twirling thoughts or
Are they twirling me...
Silouetted tip toes hush
crossed a threshold of invitation...
I've made my way up the track
On my trusty mountain bike...