This is an archiving journal of daily snippets and thoughts. Periodically, themes may form, and for this I apologize. Any attempt to sway the material is purely due to cowardice and lack of imagination. Generally speaking this should be considered mere spasmodic flurries of an anxious explanation from a real persons practically impractical reaction to the world.
Thursday, December 28, 2006
Caught
As the instrument did stretch And the sun did bless And the harp did play its tune
So the fingers could grasp This hapless mass Of the boy Above his tomb
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