Sunday, April 27, 2014

2.1090 : 4/27/08 : Of Form

I could be called a fool
to labor for these trifles
over a matter of form
I seem to be to me
weaker than ever bent
in the eye of this ordinary storm
there’s nothing wrong with brevity
or introspection
it’s not like anyone’s out there
offering rejection
And hell all I can think about
right now is getting warm
in silence and darkness
free from all this form

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