Pass such idle hours in drawn out lonely haste,
Lost in struggle and in such place.
Tinted with such ambience of not,
Touched with the exclusion of such lot.
In the bleak,
and the humble,
of sound.
10/29/10
Poet
Pass such idle hours in drawn out lonely haste,
Lost in struggle and in such place.
Tinted with such ambience of not,
Touched with the exclusion of such lot.
In the bleak,
and the humble,
of sound.
10/29/10