My Insatiable Desire To Write ♥
My Books/Projects [Updated 9/6/12]
Wednesday, January 11, 2012
Ponderance, My Dear Edison
In the same vain as the morning sunshine creeks
I'm weak watching every light go bleek
and blink as if they were trying to speak to me.
But what would they say? Are lights as poetic
as we make them seem or dull as clodded dirt?
Egnar T. Seinnhoj
Share to Twitter
Share to Facebook
Share to Pinterest
Post a Comment
Post Comments (Atom)