Friday, October 9, 2015

Sometimes I Write Things and I Have No Idea Where They Come From or What They Mean

riches and rags
and boxes and bags
i'm sitting here all alone

a hand full of keys
with dirt on my knees
i have no idea who's on the phone

a little girl's smile
i've run too many miles
there's a gate i haven't walked through

there's a sunset above
and i believe in love
what do i need that i can't get from you?

A.R.M.
04/19/02

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