Tuesday, June 22, 2010

“Anchors Aweigh Ye Lonesome”


My hand wishes for a seat within another’s hand
My head is begging for a rest upon her shoulder
My eyes are too tired and my legs are too weak
I feel like I can’t move an inch in this subtle death
Companionship blowing in the wind behind me
And I’m eagerly awaiting the next installment
A wish upon a star is but a fish upon a sea

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