Cinnamon Tales
Everything distinct has a scent, my distinctness smells of cinnamon.
Monday, October 3, 2011
Messengers of Apathy
A wingless bird on a sturdy flight,
A handsome roar to an ugly sight,
A painless tear to a stinging plight,
A shield of ruse to unreasonable height.
We, the Messengers of Apathy,
We scream, we swear, we bite.
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