one midnight strollafter the last hourof disagreeing daylightI stop to observea delicate warof sunset and gloom~.~gods of moths and bumblebeesdancing ..
has anyone ever told youthey hate the way you crythe fire from your mouth is sickand staring up, I have fallen off trackyour angry tantrumsfitting, co..
There is a blink waiting in his eyeand I am still searching for my seasonAt night, when the crickets seem to cryI fail to divide dream and reasonForge..
If I'm not one of themthan who am IAnd if I refuse to sharethan am I just shyYou've got your heart to spareand a smile insideBut you've got none of me..