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		Preaching to the Choir by DANIEL. Friday, March 28, 2003
		Roses must hate spring Couples ever snipping buds Killing for their love. Glancing behind me I thought I saw a dragon 'Twas naught but a cloud. (and now for something completely different) Red drops in white sink Blood gushing like a faucet Death can be pretty. We type back and forth The wires bring us closer But you're right next door. Though we make it numb Without pain we could not know How much joy we feel. Without a kicker The soccer ball sits so still Murdered by neglect.




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Ack, a run away techie who got loose in the author section!

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