by kidheir Apr 7, 2008
category :
Miscellaneous /
Misc. poems
The slight smell the burns the smooth texture and the rush of life.everlasting art with a urban flare.from walls to buildings to roofs to floors it runs like the train never missing a stop.yet you never acknowledge it just walk right by as time climbs down it remains as bright as the day.now comes the time i pass on but my mark remains till the end of time |