My heart is a wooden stick.

Thrown to the dogs,
Fido found it his chew toy.
Then dashed it into the lake,
Though it jumped like skipping stones.
It did not drown,
wood has no breath.

I wish sticks could breath.
Now it lies burried in sand,
A stick in muddy water.

Fido have you've forgotten?

Memories are a paradox.
Sticks are just sticks.
We played roulette,
The house always wins.

Love is a paradox.
With infinite validation.
Can you solve this,
Or is there no Else to this If?


Note: Don't mind me, I am just lost in a window... /huh.gif" style="vertical-align:middle" emoid=":huh:" border="0" alt="huh.gif" />