Untitled
By dark_sister
Graceful falling,
falling over nowhere, over nothing.
How can I explain my sorrow,
it's the weight of the world,
full of flesh, full of wrong.
I can't save a single flower,
always wilting, curse the sun.
But if I lost the sun
I would crumble to dust.
And if you died I'd have no way to live.
So it's falling, always falling, falling.
I'm at a whisper now,
don't forget it.
Don't forget me.
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Copyright 2003 dark_sister
Published on Wednesday, July 30, 2003.
Filed under:
"Poetry"
Comments on "Untitled"
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On Thursday, August 21, 2003, GreekPhilosopher
(156) wrote:
Full Of Flesh? Great Piece. Liked It Immensely! Nice GPhD.