Clover in My Sea

February 1, 2008
By Anthont Prom, London, ZZ

No line in my sky,
no clover in my sea.
Every time I close my eyes,
you're the one I see.

My speech has become simplicity,
my blood has become thin.
Your eyes are such a pity,
your thoughts are still within.

Setting down with tears, blood and sweat,
it drips in a non-existing way.
Binoculars, hard to see, hard to get,
like the clock, its time to end the day.


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