Sunday, February 15, 2009

Transporational

Blown away, from the way things transpire
get home, bare foot, my socks were on fire
Couldn't feel the chill, or the ground
Tied up, the ceiling's where i'm bound
My eyes are heavy, bags are growing
I can feel the peace, it comes with knowing





1 comment:

Anonymous said...

best one yet. Noice!