topgunner1024 opened this issue on Dec 06, 2003 ยท 5 posts
topgunner1024 posted Sat, 06 December 2003 at 8:56 PM
Softly As a child dies in the cold solace of his mothers breast We weep In the contemplation that is what? Our minds. Our hearts. Our souls. Our being. And we dine And we dance And the child we neglected is dead