stonedsour's Diaryland Diary

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Picture Book Window

Who created ethics?

Who's offspring is morality?

Did society invent them

for it's own mortality.

I ought to grow this tea-tree they say

I ought to for the sun.

So that it won't shine aimless

and believe it's work is done.

Don't these saintly golden petals

know of my regards?

for all the reighteous blood

that hath stained them,

they know not of any Gods.

Our photo's unique,

with promises to keep,

to the you I made, but never meet.

Pages in me, dark and discreet

cloaked from minds, to quick to speak.

I travelled far, but got no further.

I travelled far, to meet you here.

I travelled far, to see it here.

So far, away.

How far away could I be?

2:27 p.m. - 2004-02-21

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