Open Lids

February 4, 2011
My path seems to clear from the point where it was placed. Never the less I keep pushing to the limit with life on my shoulders. Second guessing life as tho it was misshapen into the form of an angel. Unknown to the new born child that learns from the mistakes that reaches it's speechless mouth. Painted faces that walk the world not knowing what's ahead of it. The spring rushes through the unforgotten sin that whips the mind of so many unseen actions in a human being.

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Apeggy said...
Feb. 17, 2011 at 6:12 pm
This was beautifuly written. check out my poem if you can. Thanks!
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