

DecemberSuch a cold December. The wind whispers by, And I cant tell you why It holds scents I half remember.December
Scents not of any December. Rain from Mid-Summer gales, Marshmallows that go with tall tales; These are scents I remember.
Arms wrapped in jackets all but gone, More scents come in the wind, As I close my eyes again, My memories are all but gone.
Such a cold December. The wind whispers by, And I cant tell you why It holds memories I half remember.
Lena
Generation Gap

Artist Boy.Canvas once so pure and clean now tainted with the ugliness of sin. Color is his cover-up as he tries to hide the scars.Artist Boy.
The acrylic is peeling while he cowers and hides from the whispers. "Do not fear us, Hero," they say, "we only want your perfection."
Perfection is make-up; perfection is sin, and that is what they want. A paintbrush is merely his shield and ink is his addiction.
The pen is no longer mightier than the sword. Not when the wielder is so unholy and shaken.
Canvas once so pure and clean now tainted with the ugliness of sin. Color is his cover-up a
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Dear Buddha; please bring me a pony and a plastic rocket.
Need some new reading material? Check out Strawberry Comics!
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"FEAR ME! I HAVE A SPATULA! OR WHATEVER THE HECK THIS THING IS CALLED!" (to the intruders in my backyard)
Nothing, tra la la?!
~IamPetra
Conzz
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Realtime updates, Conzpiracy on Twitter: [link]
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order some golf shoes! otherwise we'll never get out of this place alive!
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-Jade[moon-eternity] -x3
[Those who rise with the sun are simply to weak to run with the stars.]
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