K Poem by Hunter James
K
My hands are numb like before,
when the moon met the paddocks.
Its hard concentrating, on the discarded love that blows along my street.
These faded distorted memories of mine,
get harder each day.
The air is so aged, so tranquil though so overwhelmin
Saturday, February 4, 2012
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5/19/2024 7:02:00 AM # 1.0.0.1119
