My words are stacked up like empty beers
in the garbage garbled messages and sneers
but i have not emptied the trash in years and years
overflowing with must and moss and fear of tears
they have spilled out of my ashtray onto the floor
i kick them aside and have done nothing more
no broom has swept them nor a mop from a store
has brushed away cobwebs that hang above my door
In Zed's Head
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- ZED
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- Posts: 66
- Joined: Wed Oct 15, 2003 7:00 am
- Location: Graveyard of the Atlantic
In Zed's Head
Perfection is a road, not a destination