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richard-leylandPoems
I am subtle, I am something. Born with a fist that never raises I am broken, I am sullen Dead in the field of sardonic praises. Dearest friend, can you bide this time, While the sweet sanctioned misery lies. Tomorrow begs for another rhyme As I drift away and sever all these ties.
0
Nov 7, 2011
Nov 7, 2011 at 5:56 PM UTC
Short But Sacred
I am subtle, I am something. Born with a fist that never raises I am broken, I am sullen Dead in the field of sardonic praises. Dearest friend, can you bide this time, While the sweet sanctioned misery lies. Tomorrow begs for another rhyme As I drift away and sever all these ties.
Written by
richard-leyland
Canadian
Nov 7, 2011
Nov 7, 2011 at 5:56 PM UTC
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