Find Me, by George Chow
The mirror wave of the lake tickles;
a heart beckon stillness and forgiving.
What would i recieve,
if silence comforts my empty soul,
with thoughts of you.
From big to small, small to big.
They can make my pen ache my moral.
Those i have hurt, and I am hurt;
Seems like a useful waste.
Trash my intellect to normal.
Only kids laugh with imitation,
how love fishing is a magical performance.
As long as the words are certain.
|Posted: 2012-11-04 06:27:39 UTC|
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