it's ok if the songwriting suffers
the poetry stinks
snapshots of flowers
boring/blurry/bathed in shitty light
it's all right
the big red death moon
and a pox on your lips
brings big big change
and change is magic
disguised as one's biggest fear
Semi-Daily Scribbles
Carving out a corner to post random crap.
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Posted in Art, Change, Contemplation, Fear, Gratitude, Inspiration, Loss, Love, Magic, Music, Mystery, Nature, Pain, Peace, Perception, Photography, Poetry, Scars, The Journey, Truth, Writing
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