Monday, February 16, 2009

From the old Books


Words in spin, twirl firth from ink to type
Knowledge springs forth from this hype

Strings strangle the girl in her head
She stumbles on mumbles she thought she heard

Where ever there is common ground
They will find there is no place to stand

Across the sea and through the sky
To places been and forgotten
Ere to know, and then to grow from mistakes
She may learn now, and then, to let go

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