fall to others
Your cryptic words
have lost all their glitter
Your garrulous conversation
feels more like a clogged up filter
And now my favorite broken records
won’t stop playing in my old attic
With ballads calling me away
Beckoning me to a ball
and its soft refrain
is just my name
I am the Guardian of the Ink Wells and Head Flight Attendant of Our Strange and Wonderful House. Read Bio
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