Warning: Amphigorical Content!

grubby grists of euphuistic prolixity

Wednesday, 28 April 2010

House of Sand

Each day I walk this corridor
But never reach the end
To search new rooms for something lost
My waking hours I spend

Each day I climb these winding stairs
To find a different floor
This window yesterday framed hills
Today it shows the shore

Each day I come here looking
On my little plot of land
Each day I find a new face
On my house of shifting sand
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Spagphacious Aeolotony by Philip Damian-Grint is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-Non-Commercial-No Derivative Works 2.0 UK: England & Wales License
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