Heikus | ||||||||||||||||
Feedback | ||||||||||||||||
The sickness that waits,
Inside the crusted marrow, Is ticking away�. |
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Your enraged words
Are frothing up to my throat Cascading my tongue |
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Your plane has landed
Two minutes until your face My heart beats faster |
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It was just not fair How disease stole your beauty You of all people |
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I dreamt of your face And drew it on my pillow You whispered in my ear |
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Copyright  2006 Nicola West - All Rights Reserved |