As the grass grows, and the sunset shimmers, a fire burns at the moons breath.
Not a hint of tigers scent, not a hint of a ladybugs stroll.
What once was considered sacred, is now, an earths glow.
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Author:
Jason Humber (Pseudonym) (
Offline) - Published: October 8th, 2010 09:22
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 27
- Users favorite of this poem: Cheeky Missy
Offline)
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