"A word is dead
When it is said,
Some say.
I say it just
Begins to live
That day."


-Emily Dickinson




End

and I think that by then,
my bones will be too old and weak
to feel the air again
and I think by then,
my mind will lose train of thought
and I would be considered useless,
a waste of life that has grown too much,
too old.
and I'm scared
of all of this
I'm scared to come to a rotting end

the end




could never wipe away..
these permanent

drops

of

hate

dropsofhate's Works

Poetry	01/10/2005	chrysanthemum tears
Poetry	01/10/2005	with weak eyes
Poetry	01/11/2005	Fall Into Peices
Poetry	01/11/2005	Mixing Pain With Pleasure
Poetry	01/18/2005	Color
Poetry	01/25/2005	Moths and Butterflies
Poetry	02/01/2005	The Ocean of My Heart
Poetry	03/01/2005	so tight, so blind.
Poetry	03/01/2005	Something True
Poetry	03/01/2005	Flash (Silence)
Poetry	03/01/2005	Nectar Dream Of Love
Poetry	03/01/2005	a family secrete
Poetry	03/01/2005	All That's Beautiful

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