~
It's funny how you
can still make my heart race;
even against my will.
the faint hope of a new plant
hurts more
than the death of the same.
Falling,
Falling,
Fallen.
Won't you come pick me up
and dust me off?
can still make my heart race;
even against my will.
the faint hope of a new plant
hurts more
than the death of the same.
Falling,
Falling,
Fallen.
Won't you come pick me up
and dust me off?
posted by delalyra at
7:20 PM
1 Comments:
Note from the poet:
The "falling, falling, fallen" is supposed to be spaced out so that each "falling" starts at the end of the last, kind of like stairs. unfortunately, the blog won't let me do that. grr.
By
delalyra, at 5/19/2005 4:36 PM
Post a Comment
<< Home