I wrote this one sometime the day after my grandfather died.
Don't say a word
We mustn't be heard
If the monster is stirred
There will be hell to pay
Watch this dizzying dance
Done on tiptoes and eggshells
And though I never got the chance
to tell you, you killed me...you did
Am I going to your funeral
Or are you sleeping through mine?
Wednesday, December 12, 2007
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3 comments:
Love this. So good.
Thanks.
Thanks.
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