

The WebWarrior, poet, scholar, priestess... A thousands roles, a thousand possible me's and you's. Connected like the endless spider webs,The Web
Thin, whispering strands of who we were, where we've been,
Who we've touched, killed, loved, saved, destroyed. Echos in my soul, of love and battle and loss,
Still yourself and listen, to the memories, to the moments, Ask the pendulum again, yes or no, find another secret,
Discover things within your heart and mind,
Sometimes worth remembering, Sometimes worth forgetting... Tie the strands of the Web together, or tear them apart, so fragile. I


Pretty wordsIt only writes the pretty words when it's sad,Pretty words
So take away it's light and fresh air,
It only writes the pretty words when it's hungry,
So starve it until all it can feel is it's own empty. It only writes the pretty words when it's weak, So kick it to the ground and leave it for dead. It only writes the pretty words when it's scared,
So threaten it, Beat it, Trembling so bad it dare not look you in the eyes. It only writes the pretty words when it's in pain,
So Scream, Yell, Curse at it, it's worthless and weak. It only writes the pretty words when it's broken.  
Love ya all!
Bear
No I'm not....well ok, maybe sometimes....I am weary.. Sleepy time and perhaps if I can get myself in the mood....HAHAAAA...(most often then none I fake it and roll over) ..I will post more poems and oddities tomorrow. YES dammit...you must wait for more Bear. (like anyone is actually showing up at my front door.) Of course, Mousie, you may have the Bear to do with what you will! Hee-hee! Anytime, anyplace....
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