Monday, April 18, 2011

My hair was free

You seem to follow me everywhere
You drag your roots across the ground
I look back to see you there
But you never make a sound
Although we could feel the end was near
We kept on going round
Like a chasing cartoon character
That moment before they look down
"Did you ever write that book?"
You shout, way far off from behind
"Not until you paint your masterpiece."
Our failure is a tie that binds
Once I tried to lose you
But left a ribbon for you to find
I blame my inability to follow through
I can never finish
Anything.

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