a poem for my mother and my limited intelligence
why is it
that i am only intelligent
sitting on the kitchen stool,
watching the years between 17 and 42
stretch and slide between notime and infinity
and only
until i burst into tears
that i am only intelligent
sitting on the kitchen stool,
watching the years between 17 and 42
stretch and slide between notime and infinity
and only
until i burst into tears
1 Comments:
this one makes sense to me also, probably in a different way then it does for you, but that's the beauty of art^^...good job
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