Just In
Ashley Alquine PM
Joined Jun '05


A rose by any other name would still be a flower

And flowers die, victims of time

Memories have the stereotype of being lasting

But who remembers that king who built those

Crumbling testaments in the desert

Testaments to his lasting fame

The puce lichens slowly wear the words away to dust

Another case-history of the feebleness of our work

Our arrogance is ever being put-down by

The wind that sweeps the dust across my porch

And the ivy that creeps over the walls

they gently make their fatal imposition

On my own ready-made autobiography

You will more than likely not remember me

when the last note of my swan-song fades

when my street disappears and my phone number

ceases to function

Author: Follow Favorite

Twitter . Help . Sign Up . Cookies . Privacy . Terms of Service