When I can't be founda sad and desolate world
this will be
for you
not for me
What will be found
Pray a vestige of warning
echoing in my stead
stirring the embers
of thoughts surpressed
proving up that which you thought
I'd guessed
and finally filling your vacant head
When I can't be found
the hell you thought
of this world
will a fond
nostalgia be
for you
not for me
Stuart Gort
None.
