|Posted by goldenplum on February 8, 2014 at 11:05 PM||comments (0)|
He sits there wondering if there was another way he didn’t try
He sits there mourning all the little girls and boys
He sits there holding his head in his hands
He sits there wandering foreign lands
He sits there punishing himself
He sits there bleeding hell
He sits there trying to forget it all
but how in the world can he not regret it all?
by Jasmine Kaur.
|Posted by goldenplum on January 31, 2014 at 1:25 AM||comments (0)|
See you got my call
What’s wrong, my love?
You’re not yourself at all
You’re much too young,
No bowtie, less chin
Loving the new you
And I’d take it for a spin
But the shadows are killers
The library’s haunted
|Posted by goldenplum on October 16, 2013 at 11:20 PM||comments (0)|
Space is not necessarily peace, but it usually is. Grace is a form of space and we're the better off for it. It's a glorious kind of roominess really—one in which we can become recumbant if we wish. Nothing is gratuitous. Everywhere grace.
- by Alan Davies
|Posted by goldenplum on October 4, 2013 at 8:00 PM||comments (0)|
Across the stars, far away
Was the beautiful planet Gallifrey;
The stunning city in a dome;
The place the Time Lords called home;
It’s all gone now, that grass, that sky;
For in the end only one didn’t die.
-by Geneva -From Whofic.com
|Posted by goldenplum on September 19, 2013 at 11:35 AM||comments (0)|
Since fezzes are red,
And the Tardis is blue,
Would you mind if I traveled through time with you?
The screwdriver is green,
Just as bowties are cool,
But when I'm with you,
I cant help act like a fool,
Daleks may be crazy,
and time wibbly wobbly,
I still get those butterflies,
From the first time you saw me.
I only have one question,
and I cant help but worry.
If I were Amy,
Would you be my Rory?