William L. Cowbey Jr.
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It was here.
I know it was here.
I felt the rain trickle down my neck
I kicked the leaves
I've rolled in the snow
allowed my face so burn over and over again
The rapture of the sweet scent of
jasmine fills my senses still
I lived every second of every
moment of every hour, of every
day, of every week, of every month,
of every every, every year.
I was not idle
There was no neglect
My dreams were only dreams
The future come
Now there's dampness in my bones
Now I run slow
Who in this master of the enemy.
who allows the ...