Copyright © 1995, Marsha Penrose
The Last Sunset, and spun silver wings no longer flutter Hopelessly drawn to the flame of my suffering. Time is an ant dragging a crust of bread across the sun baked sidewalk. So I dream of pillows in the air sticks of sweet cotton candy clouds, drifting...... Take me with you, Please. Marsha Penrose
The Last Sunset, and spun silver wings no longer flutter Hopelessly drawn to the flame of my suffering.
Time is an ant dragging a crust of bread across the sun baked sidewalk.
So I dream of pillows in the air sticks of sweet cotton candy clouds, drifting......
Take me with you, Please.
Marsha Penrose
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