Sunday, August 11, 2013

a morn

Tortured morning turned silly. 
Making every one weak.
Run aground of immovable land mass.  Those pieces falling out.
Turning up makes for an out come 
             unexpected?
We shall see how to out run.

Those that scamper trailing behind with strings...all those strings shot forward.
To entangle
I shall run them through and snaps be as they may. They maybe sharply letting.  


So be it

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