What's so "good" about this Friday? I woke up on the wrong side of my bed. My hair curled up and draped over my shoulders. The sun failed to do it's daily routine and say hello. The rain under my feet. Yeah, "good" Friday.
I'm searching for home. Dartmouth where have you gone? I no longer can feel the subtle touch of her fingertips gliding up and down my arms. Never again will I feel her warmth down my neck as she slowly breathes in a deep sleep. I envy him who took her away. Who didn't keep her.
Dear nightingale, won't you sing to me your sweet song? As I watch the moon cast it's shadow unto your tainted wings? I want to be absorbed in a world of your tune Dancing until the sun allows us