Κυριακή, 20 Φεβρουαρίου 2011

Strange infatuation seems to grace the evening tide...


I'm unclean, a libertine
and every time you vent your spleen,
I seem to lose the power of speech,
your slipping slowly from my reach.
you grow me like an evergreen,
you never see the lonely me at all.....

Why do people forget so easily?...


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