We have 7 guests online
Tuesday, 23 March 2004 00:00
The Bus
Emotions are dead
On this canvas of life
Swayed by moments of feeling
Just enough
To wish for a puff
And my thoughts are amused by the ceiling
Lift this embargo
Of trust in the sky
Temperatures rise, we are sinking
Light years ahead
Forgot what was said
And somehow the bus is now leaving
© 3/23/2004, William Grant Preston
