Fallen Thoughts

Fallen Thoughts

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:: 2.07.2002 ::

Talk so small it finds its way through the cracks in the floors.
He pours another round with hopes of keeping conversation lively.

A familiar sea of faces.

The tide rolls in and comes crashing upon my shores,
Only to roll back out as the last rounds drown the night.

Now I'm free..

---

and with that said, I'm getting the hell out of this town. Athens or bust!

have a great weekend everyone..



:: posted by Michael at 12:49 PM [+] ::

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