Wisps of white, here and there In clouds that frolic with the wind Looting my soul until it lay bare Lost, perhaps, where do I begin? I float away on rivers made of lead A promise never kept towards the dead Making me the ghost from nowhere.

Artist Highlights

• ArtWanted.com Gallery:    Art/Drawing Misc.
• Proficient Software:   My brain, my heart, my mind, my soul.
• Past Clients:    They know who they are.