I stayed up late
And scribbled down
A rough scetch of
My life abound
And when I get home
You'll see
Whats inside
The world of me
I call it nothing
It has no name
But it fits right in
This daily game
And though my hand's
Not quite that steady
I think it's art
I'm sureit's ready
---------
If you want to see a better copy of the drawing you can go to my blog @
http://blog.myspace.com/index.cfm?fuseaction=blog.ListAll&friendID=114775050
|
Email this Poetry
|
Add to reading list





