LHK
I miss many things, things that tear...

The paths I have taken drop
memories, covering my...

The stars hang brightly in the
obsidian bowl of the heavens...

Time holds on to us all.
It pushes, pulls, drags us kicking...

The boy sits in
A corner, looking at the masses...

My generation is made of plastic.
Plastic soldiers, plastic cars, plastic shirts and...

Looking down from a high perch, there is a black...
amidst the endless flow of white collars...

I stood amidst the shattered glass
that once I called my mind...