Lonely
Posted: Thu Mar 23, 2006 1:19 am
Paul strolls along the waterside, his hands deep in his pockets, his back hunched a little selfconsciously, and his blondish hair constantly flitting into his eyes. Occasionally he gazes into the river to see the flicking of fish tails in the last rays of glorious orange sunlight. He walks by the shop, where its become impossible for him to negotiate with the shopkeeper due to his ever decreasing amount of funds. He continues on down by the small cliques soaking in the atmosphere and chatting steadily.
I would not have thought I'd ever be a stranger in this place. Where have all the good times gone?
He stops by a well and stares into the blue-eyed reflection of the young man he has surely become.
I would not have thought I'd ever be a stranger in this place. Where have all the good times gone?
He stops by a well and stares into the blue-eyed reflection of the young man he has surely become.