Apr 2015
I want to write an epic
and I can't.
Words fail me now,
at two-forty-two
alone I lie
with nothing
but the whirling
sound of
a ceiling fan
and that's not much
of an epic
sound.
and I can't.
Words fail me now,
at two-forty-two
alone I lie
with nothing
but the whirling
sound of
a ceiling fan
and that's not much
of an epic
sound.
