"Empty" bottles-with the most air,
Have some special, interesting flair:
They make your life hardest to bear;
With vacuous, empy noises,
But the loudest sounds you ever will hear.
You realize about what I talk;
Or do I need pieces of paper and chalk?
|| Know no more about me, I, me and myself, in all; Than the perturbations of thoughts and feels, That, everyday, rise and fall.|| For an older version of my blog, visit here.
Sunday, 6 January 2013
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