:: Purposeful Death Overhead ::

arg! i struggle with evil computer problems as i try to publish my next entry....

a poem, meanwhile ~>



Little Bird
Fly little bird. Over the trees, Over the mountains, Over the seas. Fly to freedom. Don’t look behind. Theres nothing you’re leaving back there. Don’t turn around; You might forget why you’re leaving, You might break your wings. No, what are you doing? Why all the sudden, you turn around, Why question my words… NO. Love is not like that. That kind o God you say? What’s God gonna do? You credulous fool, Go on. Get your wings broken. See if I give a damn.

:: Alina 1:37 AM Comments: Post a Comment