An ode to all the worthless writing in the world.
Poetry. Prose. Expression.
Tuesday, March 2, 2010
A random thought
The shards of a broken illusion
reflected a pretty world.
What illusion, but a neat mirror,
could be broken anyway?
Vanity had been obliterated,
and the pride had bled.
The stench of the carcass of malady,
pervading the health of a glorious life.
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