It pulls at my eyes,
From behind my nose,
It's a feeling that I know so well,
But can't recreate at will,
I envy those gifted souls,
Who can feel it at will,
And who are free from it's wrath,
For I am the rejected,
I want only to be wrapped in it's embrace,
And lullabied to sleep.
-Sir Jestro
Sunday, July 19, 2009
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