real west
periodic poetry
3.03.2010
Unrequited
I sit in a room typing words about you. Do you care or would you if you knew. It doesn't matter I do what I do. Over and over I run it through my mind and write down what I saw. Does that make it true?
1 comment:
mijo
March 3, 2010 at 4:20 PM
for some odd reason I like this one.
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for some odd reason I like this one.
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