Widdling whims and whiticisms from whispering willows, and from time to time, the salacious seeds of nostalgia.
Tuesday, May 24, 2011
poem: Legacy
When the day comes for the world to end may it be said he was with friends that he worked to write his mind alive and pushed his body till it thrived But above all else, I hope they'll say his spirit breathed again-- he relearned to pray
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