Poema

lizor_08

New Member
29 Mayo 2008
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Gnaw the drawers ground,
untouched by its lid.
Loops sadly can't round,
cracked between for id,
webs embrace dying sounds.

Her empty touch hasn't the spark,
like kids who can't lark...
Sinking beneath white winter snows,
crystal as what Loops eye shows.

What has happened with Loops home ?
For winds of skin he's thrown.