Hello from the past
Say’s the echo
A fading voice
A passing moment
Hello
From the past
Anything you read
It was written in the echo
But
there is something about reading
That makes us question whether time moves forward at all
There is something about art
That can make it timeless.
-C.H.
“Someone said once— —the responsible thing to do here would be to look up who actually said it before writing about it. Give credit where credit is due, dude. You’d want your words to be treated that
It is what it is . . . And I never learn I just burn My bridges And call it living I just stay Sinning And I can’t keep forgiving myself For letting down myself These repeated patterns Scream at me To
The aura of the man Was growing It had been brewing Dimly glowing Holding onto the thread of a dream Bottled in the deep It raged like the sea does when she is hungry It went wild like a child can It
