I mean no harm, I mean no trouble

I live inside a metaphoric bubble

All I need is a place I can call my own

A slice of the world that is mine alone

Where thoughts and ideas can in freedom reside

And tales of wonder and gloom safely hide

Tuesday, July 5, 2011

Short Story

For her, he said, he'd forever wait. So she set out to find him one day.

But alas, when she did it was too late, for another had led him astray.

So with her own heavy heart, and his, which out she had ripped,

The poor girl sadly returned to her crypt.

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pensive, passive, pao