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

Friday, August 5, 2011

Story Bone

Well, maybe a writing prompt.

"Candice moved the M9 that held the bag of chips closed to grab a few with her long fingers and then led off the hand with the King of Spades."

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