Thursday, June 21, 2012

Thou doth protest...

The toll for the dreamers
is the reckoning
It is the sound of the lost that guide us
Send help!
Sound the alarm!
I know we are floundering
Lost, until somebody finds us
Which is unlikely these days
You keep yourself well hidden
Stacking books and trading looks
with those crooks and fools
who are cruel and ghoulish
They scurry in the light
and flourish in the dark
like roaches or race car drivers
We all went to school
we all fought to hold our places
with words

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