It's a poem, only the god thingy is gay about it.Blue Smoke
The flame of my life burns low
Under the cluttered days,
Like a fire of leaves.
But always a little blue, sweet-smelling smoke
Goes up to God.
Karle Wilson Baker
(The flame of my life burns low
Under the cluttered days,
Like a fire of leaves.
But always a little blue, sweet-smelling smoke
Goes up to God.
Karle Wilson Baker
Floppy Donkey crawled out of the ditch.,
Fri 8 May 2009, 14:39,
archived)
