a writer of sorts
No eyes to see you.
No hands to reach for your aid.
I feel the disdain
Growing in you; begrudging
even the smallest of drops.
|Pulsar | Will Vigar on Stanlow|
|Pulsar – I Bet… on Stanlow|
|Scene and Not Heard… on Mine|
|erroneouschoices on The Night Before…|
|Will on Nairn Beach (Impressionist)|