there's nothing left to say
when you've run out your string
and the world still embraces its doom
we come into a world of generalities
and die off in our own particulars
and whatever we thought was salvation
is nothing of the kind
we speak our piece and it lingers for so short a while
Content (c) 2008-2015 Philip Milito. All rights reserved.
Friday, February 20, 2015
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