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Rated: E · Poetry · Friendship · #2080550
Talk of the some's we hid for friendship, has a sinking feeling...
Tatters and frowns
Time to make a friend, the bowels of charity
To venture forth with a lip, for a silence crowns
The taste of hunger for a strength unseen, except for disparity

Haunt, homage and hours
Od the canny, sore in the infamy
Stones of wan, to deliver the bite of promise, ours
The lovers of dim duty to reason hadding, reality

Lucre, do you know for a semblance before the gift of a smile?
San's done, dealing the card of suppose and frankness estranged
We know the belly of another angry show, ire's of didn't
We just, if not enjoy the holding guise of journey's to inanity, none

Like the casualty of solace in the world's eyes
Isn't more than these, the right to seek another first
Ought the dreaming habit we called the panic and the lives
Of others in the sharing sought, are ready for our own worst?
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