Castaway
Like floatsam I've drifted up on the shore
Bereft of pain there is nothing at my core
Everything is jetsam in the warm sea
There is realy nothing left that was me
So I am free to start, to start anew
I gather pieces of me that I knew
Castaway
Like floatsam I've drifted up on the shore
Bereft of pain there is nothing at my core
Everything is jetsam in the warm sea
There is realy nothing left that was me
So I am free to start, to start anew
I gather pieces of me that I knew
06-30-2009
laydbak1 commented on Castaway
06-26-2009
Poetry is what gets lost in translation.
Robert Frost (1875-1963) American Poet.
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