Sunday, February 8, 2009

Who is Behind

I took a ride on the railroad

floated in the puddles of muck.

the boots were drenched with mud

my mother

she tells me to listen

and learn from her mistake what is right

and whatever left behind will surely feel

the scorn of time and fear of the past

lead me to wonder...

who is behind?

the chocolate laden door? why is it like this?

my house is as empty as my

bank account run dry

-wes edmond

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