Poetry.  The art of language.  The movement of words.

everything's gone and it's all your fault
i gave a world you could not destory
now you leave all pity and blue
why'd you ever mess with me
why i'd ever messed with you
destructions come now and we've been left to to faught
they scare you left hurt much more
the earth's all yours and i'm here to part

-mumblings of a past notebook



Saturday, May 26, 2001

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