WHEN THEY COME

when they come
with hands of dirt
from solemn sleep
so, they come
one-by-one too
they come, for all
forgotten dreams
the never-bee’s
humming buzzing
with hands of dirt
from solemn wept
a life that never lived

:: 02-05-2015 ::

About EPRobles

Writer, Artist. I like to paint abstract acrylic images onto canvas. I love to read everything, and I especially enjoy science, philosophy, and the arts. I'm new to the blog experience and I very much enjoy it! I hope to learn as much about all the features that WordPress offers and thank you -- my visitor -- for taking time to read my words. Peace and love... View all posts by EPRobles

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