untitled_jul15
they told him when he stood at the doors, still clad in his torn up jeans and faded-to-all-fuck sneakers, curious to see if he applied.
"club 27 has reached capacity. come back later, kid."
he went back later, this time wearing his finest suit and his shiniest pair of formal shoes.
he spent hours polishing those shoes, polishing them until they were bright enough to shame the cleanest cut gems,
again, they told him, this time with a gentle shove back towards the world he so desperately hated.
"club 27 has reached capacity. come back later, kid."
and he calmly stared them in their diluted, oscillating pupils, only to answer,
"we all end up in the same place."
YOU ARE READING
Club 27 Has Reached Capacity - F. T. Willz
PoetryEvery poem by F. T. Willz I could find. Some of them are titled by me seeing as they didn't have any titles or dates to use as a chapter name, although every poem is definitely written by F. T. Willz. Enjoy.
