She ran through the sty,
Of a shiny pig's litter
In a dress as pale as the sky,
and corsette that didn't fit her.
The rain did not mean much
Nor the puddles it collected,
Or the dirt her skin would touch
Or the mine man it affected. .
Take a trip inside my mind as I share timely insights, musings, and perspectives on life, love, and everything in between.
19 April 2012
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
-
It's a very difficult challenge to try to understand oneself and one's own mind. It's a difficult thing to do because you questi...
-
Today, was one of those days where everything I felt just came rushing in and my emotions were all messed up and confused. - Sometimes, wh...
-
It's Christmas day. Supposedly the most beautiful time of the year. I question why it has been graced with that title. From my experienc...
No comments:
Post a Comment