Incognito, still...

If you believe what they tell you, i've got a bridge to sell you.

Saturday, April 17, 2010

Heat stroke.

Concrete, set we dwell

On material things

Engulf our thoughts with unnecessary wonders.

Splitting our mind, dividing our body

Causing a rip in the unison.

Perplexed, we turn to our brain.

The brain wants peace but we turn the other cheek.

We sulk, contemplate, commiserate.

Dead silence, we tried.

And so we wait some more

Yet now we dwell in calm.

Posted by Madison Taylor. at 6:42 PM

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