francis e.rudy Biography

I have a story to tell

from my private hell
...

Here, as everywhere

it's true.
...

the wind blows my window
i'ts near time to go

across the cold alley way
...

in love again, what good am i,
if i can't see for the stars in my eyes

already, i'm becoming metamorphic
...

No letters, no calls
No one at the door
No lovers anymore
...