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Swing |
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Frayed, hanging listless, twisting
in the wind. Strange, it reminds me of my own mortality Once was a swing to delight and confound, what goes up must rebound... ...and swing, and swing, and swing. End of innocence, and beginning of fear, joy of freedom and first kiss there. Lost it to security, and her to my best friend. I suppose every swing becomes a noose for something in the end. |
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| - k. a. g. - | |
| writings even though words can often be misunderstood, it is still one of the best ways to get a point across. i try to use more artistic styles where interpretation creates thought. for more info on my writings, email the address below. writings@boldseed.com |
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