Sunday, January 3, 2010

Snow time is no time,
to look for answers and broken dreams.
Your mind dances like a puddle in the rain,
caught back and forth between its own desires.

Today, nothing shall change,
the bird on the telephone pole shall sing her song.
I walk naked on the snow, my feet frozen in your memory,
feelings I never felt flushes away the pain,
I am just a broken song, played again and again on the radio.

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