Pizza Poem
Pizza Poem
David Sheldon Nicholson
November 23, 2009
The midnight mist rolls around my feet like the raged hand of the grave.
I look up to see the moon struggling to come from behind the broken clouds.
I think to myself, I could use a pizza right now.
David Sheldon Nicholson
November 23, 2009
The midnight mist rolls around my feet like the raged hand of the grave.
I look up to see the moon struggling to come from behind the broken clouds.
I think to myself, I could use a pizza right now.
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