tears

8 May 2009 at 8:56 am Leave a comment

I own an empty bucket
In the center of my soul
When I meet pain and sorrow
That bucket’s quickly full.

The only way to empty it
Is one thimble at a time
Through the backdoor of my eyelids
And down my cheeky clime.

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Entry filed under: poetry & prose. Tags: , , , , .

weight scotchers to my mother

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