with no seed ever thrown.
On a field green and mended.
Full in pain, a new keeper has grown.
People want times to be dear.
No problem being a bit queer.
Earth in shocking state.
Past the river of blood, 2 and 8 will mate.
(I am loosing inspiration, should I shutdown?)
Cages clean as never seen.
From all, only two saw eye to eye.
Thourn Whaul '02