I'm really not sure if anyone cares anymore. So if you're just checking back and don't want to comment on the story, I sincerely hope that you're doing okay, and thank you for the interest and inspiration all those years ago.
Sam


Winged FlightWinged Flight
high flight upon red shepherd skyline fluttering spirits in silhouette haunt a blended horizon of nature's golden purity
stretch and flow a ballet of white feather rippling softly within a cold burst breeze among patchwork blue and white
dancing freely upon cloud topped buildings


Smilerstears; slid softly across my fading smile, at six, when mark fixed upon my innocence and saidSmilers
Ugly.
tooth chipped, and playground
blood
spilt once more upon the rough edged concrete floor. Scathed by an ally in short trousers. Yet somehow;
it felt natural.
Joanna; beauty as an essence with fiery hair curled like ocean waves and brown eyes with that spa


When It EndsTwirled and tapped through stubborn time the swirling rings of reality that curled and curtailed around sullen blonde blends. We stood in solemn silence as a world that barbed freedom and battered morality came to a shattering end in brimstone and sizzling ash. Where dawn came young and nights were bright with sparks and spattles of explosive element, and no man dared to cry out that this wasn't meant to be.When It Ends
We stood upon the crackled charcoal ground upon the highest hill. Staring down as red clouds and erupting blazen tides crippled centuries and histories o


jazzJazz me. I wanna be. Jazz me.jazz
Let those white, white teeth Shine out like blue-note stars In the gloom of the smoky Backstreet bar.
Spill that husky, rusty voice Over ambience and background Noise. Scribe those notes over
My late-night skin,
Watch the goose-bumps rise As you begin to sing.
Don’t take it fast. Don’t want it slow. I want it sweet. So jazz me.
Transport me to your
Saxaphone dream, take my Hand with your soul-sound band
and tell mr bass it ain’t no race, It’s just jazz
blue sunday
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