Published on Wednesday, June 8, 2011 by admin
The white lines are tracers for the facers of the aftermath
Positioned in the situation, lost in battles of love
Still yearning--not learning, unborn...unhatched
Yet, but wait! It's time to collide
To decide, if you will a purpose for the marchers in orang
And still a circus for the children in disguise
Throwing bones to the drug-sniffing dogs
Pro...