|
|---|
| It injures me when you think ill of me, Though I guess in truth I injure myself When I know you are forced to such disgust And disappointment and forgiveness By all my vulgar snarling and despair.
rcs.
Current draft: 4/25/2010 Created on 4/22/2010 10:39 AM |
--
Posted By Ron Southern to
The Rat Squeaks at 4/25/2010 10:48:00 AM
--
You received this message because you are subscribed to the Google Groups "The-Rat-Squeaks" group.
To post to this group, send email to
the-rat...@googlegroups.com.
To unsubscribe from this group, send email to
the-rat-squea...@googlegroups.com.
For more options, visit this group at
http://groups.google.com/group/the-rat-squeaks?hl=en.