you're just a pawn for a greater evil
you don't understand, in the early blue morning light
of an autumn day you can't comprehend;
we sit
between grey brick walls, and think "hate this place"
and draw silly drawings of the lives we'll never lead
and the dreams we'll never feed
anyway.













Comments
--
" ...he's more myself than I am. Whatever our souls are made of, his and mine are the same, and Linton's is as different as a moonbeam from lightning, or frost from fire."
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