mardi 26 novembre 2013

The White Buffalo - The Woods.

 
Gone so long I stepped out of the woods,
I was misunderstood but in light of it all,
I sit back and check their disguise,
Their dark shallow eyes got lost in the haze of the light.
 
They all strive to deviate from the norm,
But collectively swarm to be all the same,
To alter image prosthetics are worn,
Their primped plastic forms melt in the heat of the light.

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