the lawn is pock-marked with cigarettes each burn hole a vignette of time spent thinking of you. some solemn stories of glowing game glories tossed tales telling no ado. i've lost track of weeks started to grow meak but strength was just biding time... love's labour lost at crazed couple's cost fading fate finally flipped the dime. Blue could have melted to reds but flicked ashes lead to another seered patch of lawn. more memories made placing pout on parade with disdain dancing dutifully till dawn. [i miss you.] more importantly though: www.votetoimpeach.org [i firmly promise to add more nat'l orgs each day]. In the words of john and yoko, as told through system of a down, as told through michael moore [www.michaelmoore.com]: war is over (if you want it).
24 March, 2003 - 00:26
behind - ahead
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