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Paper Vapor Trails

hello blank white fog of empty familiar you of wrapping guilt standing in the sands of time catching at my thoughts pre empted claymore buried to the hilt chuckling at attempted rhyme tilting tattered wind blown kilt watch it lar I’m sorely tempted Words are forming in my rage Soon to fly at empty page Spitting splatter What’s the matter? Is it time to clean my cage?

Copyright © | Year Posted 2006




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