Apparantly I just won the Scotch Poetry prize for this year... I don't even know what poem it's for - but woot nonetheless! Looks like I need to figure out a book to get
My desktop...

Contemplations, the Second.Contemplations, the Second.Contemplations, the Second.
When a tossed coin lands on it's side who would collapse, say that they tried? When all you've done is hit the wall and never took the chance at all?
You could go up, you could go down. These choices strike from all around. Piercing, to your very soul, when one right choice could make you whole.
Lingering joy of times long passed,
longing for those times to last. When you know it'd just begun, when what you've lost could be the one.
The pool of truth grows clear with time, the mask of shade lifts from yo


Thoughts.A broken watch, a blunted scythe. Loss of time, a wasted life. If I must choose which way to go who's to say I shouldn't know the truth of that which lies within, is wasting your life a sin?Thoughts.
A frozen clock, a torn-up cowl. The hour-glass to my will bowed. But what's the point? I'm asking you, when you lose what was once true, will extra time help you decide if you should run or fight or hide?
So wind the watch, sharpen the scythe, for there is no point in a wasted life. Repair the clock and mend the cowl, pay no heed to the darkened howls.
see you!
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indications that there's something wrong with our new house, trip down the wire twice daily
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And now for something completely different.
me lyce and carley all agreed
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indications that there's something wrong with our new house, trip down the wire twice daily
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~ F E N R I R ~
hope all's well with you and the wall and you're gf
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indications that there's something wrong with our new house, trip down the wire twice daily
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~sometimes the road ahead is paved with nothing but good intentions!
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