A man alone is but a lump of sifted earth.
Sprinkle your love upon my soil;
breathe your heart into my dust.
Let us see what might grow and blossom.
- mce
Wednesday, February 24, 2010
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Merely a holding cell for journal entries, wry observations, attempted witticisms, poems and random aphorisms. Sense of humor required. This is poetry, NOT biography. Please do not call 911, stage an intervention or suggest AA. Everyone deserves their own death, allow me mine. Tentative conclusions encouraged. Advice ignored. Absolute truths not welcome. Enlightenment unlikely. Play on.
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