The birds sang because they were leaving in the morning.
The lights went orange before they died.
And the wind blew into the stars.
And the wind blew into the stars.
Saturday, January 14
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Early drafts, ideas and poesy by some bloke.
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This is a personal and not for profit weblog. Except where otherwise noted, this site is licensed under a Creative Commons
License.
This is a personal and not for profit weblog. Except where otherwise noted, this site is licensed under a Creative Commons
License.
