I watch the ripples change their size
But never leave the stream
Of warm impermanence
And so the days float through my eyes
But still the days seem the same
And these children that you spit on
As they try to change their worlds
Are immune to your consultations
They're quite aware of what they're goin' through
Wednesday, October 21, 2009
Story Bone
So I woke up this morning with this phrase in my head. I don't think it belongs to one of my stories. Does it belong to yours?
"The pretty girls don't have to put up with your bullshit."
1 comment:
Yeah, that would be seriously interesting to know.
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