DJamesBreaux
a year ago500+ Views
The industrious chaos of love
has no limits; it's just
an end-game of reluctance.
But these confused rains
would be no more
if I could have the painters hide the sky....
and insist on a story
that ends in gratitude not
solitude,
solitude
gets you nowhere
in a land of
broken clocks.
No hope of redemption;
just quiet pleas for
long drawn out dreams....
to say nothing of
luck,
in all its glorious quiet.



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