i
lose myself
in bustling paper cities
peering through high rises
and alleyways
beneath overpasses
and soiled park benches
within rush hour crowds
and last calls
in hopes of finding that
one poem
you will never
forget.
i
lose myself
in bustling paper cities
peering through high rises
and alleyways
beneath overpasses
and soiled park benches
within rush hour crowds
and last calls
in hopes of finding that
one poem
you will never
forget.
unfortunately for you, i think ned wrote it last week…
had something to do with scabies if i remember right.
You have… found the poem !
huzzah! i guess i’m done writing, then.