A collection of thoughts unbound and scrawlings in the life and times of Mr. Wordy

Tuesday, June 8, 2010

His life is dripping away like wine from the bottle. Where does the dream go when his is awakened? to stubble surly on a wheel. Over and over. A rat with no place to go. The bottle returns full again to it he does. Presently at peace. by and by empty once more.
once more, bartender, once more.

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