Friday, July 14, 2006

Forsaken hearts and hand-me-down pain
Travel in Blue Sunday skies
And take smart roads to hate

A part of me goes with them
To cold streams of salty eyes
Where I hide behind the cracked rock seams
Waiting for salvation

Or a clue
Or someone to help me

Anything.

The feet keep passing
No one to crash into me
No place to go but back

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