wpf.livejournal.com
The Dream: wpf
http://wpf.livejournal.com/18761.html
Stitched up mew (. Walking along a distant road. Covered in pure, sparkling snow. Looking for something I had lost long ago. One night, in a dream I dreamt. I stopped only to pick lovely flowers. And gather them in my arms. I felt a warmth spread into my bones. And as I gazed upon them,. I felt oddly clean. I touched their velvety petals. And allowed myself to cry. I laid them softly to rest. Buried beneath that virgin snow. Feeling so lost and very alone. I came upon a small house. That beckoned to me.
poetry-is.livejournal.com
The Dream: poetry_is
http://poetry-is.livejournal.com/49631.html
Stitched up mew (. Walking along a distant road. Covered in pure, sparkling snow. Looking for something I had lost long ago. One night, in a dream I dreamt. I stopped only to pick lovely flowers. And gather them in my arms. I felt a warmth spread into my bones. And as I gazed upon them,. I felt oddly clean. I touched their velvety petals. And allowed myself to cry. I laid them softly to rest. Buried beneath that virgin snow. Feeling so lost and very alone. I came upon a small house. That beckoned to me.
poetry-is.livejournal.com
24 June 2005: poetry_is
http://poetry-is.livejournal.com/49365.html
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slamnation.livejournal.com
Oops, my bad :(: slamnation
http://slamnation.livejournal.com/639524.html
US, Washington, Seattle, King, Denny Way, 1268. Oops, my bad :(. Sorry about accidentally posting my poem to the communities that have nothing to do with poetry, or the form I was using. Posted via LiveJournal app for iPhone. Post a new comment. We will log you in after post. We will log you in after post. We will log you in after post. We will log you in after post. We will log you in after post. Post a new comment. Post a new comment. Follow us on Facebook. Follow us on Twitter. 1999 LiveJournal, Inc.
slamnation.livejournal.com
Sparrow: slamnation
http://slamnation.livejournal.com/639948.html
Stitched up mew (. Made of stardust and cloud. Escape the dirty, taunting man. Let your aspirations be your guide into the unknown. Let your sorrow keep you adrift. Oh, sweet sparrow, whose voice haunts my soul. Why do you touch the ground. When you could live amongst clouds instead? Are humans more fun to watch. Are they more fun to tease? With their heads in the clouds. And meager thoughts flying about. They grow into monsters. Are you disgusted by our useless. The fire or touching the sun.