the pitch

27 Mar 2009

·Deckard

and where do I go the endless tunnel now turns to black as I look forward and forward is the only direction left to me no chances remain no return my last hand is played and the cards are empty the cold I can bear thoughts will warm me time a blur a forgotten enemy a remembered friend allow me your hand as I walk into the pitch

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Deckard

Deckard

I began writing poetry when I was a teenager and it truly saved me from a destructive path. 'Time Heals' will be on my grave stone'. I have 3 incredible kids who are the greatest gifts that God has given me. If I have advice to give to aspiring...

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