Sunday, July 27, 2008

In the halls hand me downs of horrors
There is a reaction to a pinch
Something stolen off a borrow
And the crime is now a lynch

Old ways of the dead days
Still popping up for view
Skating on the sharpened blade
And now the ice has been broken through

Bobbing birds on an ice cube dance
With frozen feet begin to sing
Furious flapping to right their stance
From the frigid truth the water brings