Monday, November 15, 2004


I'm scared..
Scared of so many things..
Running these lines..
To what end it brings..
So frail and fragile..
This porcelain child..
His pleasure never lasts..
For more than awhile..

He wishes things were different..
Changing his plight..
But life's stacked against him..
try as he might..
She alone saves his grace..
runs her fingers across his face..
and i'm scared of much..
ever so much..

no more..