The trip came late
Was slow to start
Both meek of will
And weak of heart
With broken bones
And tattered spirit
The wheels met pavement
The road did hear it
Despite love long since shattered
And promises so broken
Lies told to ourselves
And dreams never once spoken
Just beyond the bend
A soul full of wonder
No more pining for high tides
To come and pull me under
About the Creator
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Pearl
1980 something. we all hung out at Pearl and you and i were nothing special, or so i thought. i mean we all danced, drenched in our own sweat, our own saline solution of fear, too many beers, shots, laughter, tears, fucks in the bathroom and i don't know when we began to be afraid. do you?
By ROCK aka Andrea Polla (Simmons)3 days ago in Fiction
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