... down a hole.

 

Left

To the impervious sanctity of the inner self
The ephemeral bandages of wounds deeper than caring
Nothing holds attention like the sigh of irreverence
Too unknown to be faulted, too fleeting to be true.
                                                                   
-JPF

:: Again, rejected by TNY.  I wrote this at age five and three quarters, maybe they could tell I was over their age limit.