The streak is still dry I can only wonder why of a fly who will ponder in which how he will die not in the way of shy.
The top of the score holding the door for the one running down to the room in which j can call the whore.
It's the final night in which I can fight to see the light of the hospital bright with the dreams of height and survival in the sight of my emotions.
The fucking fox hides in a box blending with a ox in the corner of the rocks.
The chicken runs quickly to get the ones who had put the shuns in its mind to find some more fun.
They kill at night though it's a thrill to seek when you try to get the skill to survive even more of a hill to climb than Jack and Jill, your mind tries to fill a secret ending a certain pill of a bill.
The nights have passed and I've awoken half-assed in the hospital filled with a cast of individuals who will last only moments until the fast ones return in my mind vast with more than a past you would ever know.
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Dreams Over Reality
KöltészetA compliation of poems and skits. The skits are no longer being continued. Most poems are about me and the events around me. Read my story This is my story.
