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Poetry. I feel sure there is something, somewhere...
Friday, July 16
Feel the moist stagnation in the air
The heavy morning hanging over
You share the hurt, and cry fair
Savour the aftertaste of failure
That we’ll get used to far too soon
Like the rampant darkness in London’s lair
I laugh and smile when you leave the room
It is funny, it goes on for ever
And ever
Comments
The heavy morning hanging over
You share the hurt, and cry fair
Savour the aftertaste of failure
That we’ll get used to far too soon
Like the rampant darkness in London’s lair
I laugh and smile when you leave the room
It is funny, it goes on for ever
And ever
