(2015)
These are the real Poets/writers The ones with glasses and Always taking pictures In black/white
All this Is Just A front Am
A drunk man once asked me Do you write? And I was like yeah I can put words together, He looked at the cup he was holdin…
It is just another dreary poem Her heart will forever endure and… As he felt no human rage or human… Felt no anger, love and care in hi… In silence he slumbered in his dee…
I am Incredibly Lucky Check me out In few years
Turn my words to dust Turn from dust to dust Play my favourite type of blues Paint it from blue to blues Pour me a bottle of wine
Now, have you seen? The black mane of a dark horse As it slithers and kiss the marble… Now the whore petticoat, cloaks an… On a starry night whispers its oat
Today is never as lifeless like da… Was meant to be; the woods are idl… And birds pestering a harmless tre… And the squirrels knitting fiercel… And different people walking throu…
To whom; who death might delight, Put on your socks and your glass And glimpse through a river That breath gust of elite; gust of… Which you will miss gracefully
many writes poetry now, many writes about life and they wi… were not alive but when they hears… they run and leave their shoes beh… many writes about love,
It will never go or give up, It is a wanted resident Making its way to a
I am done losing my sense to tired… Bidding my streak with holliness, Conversing to the dawn in nakednes… Muting my ever so gracious talent In every nightfall,
glazing mortar, maze in order, the rate of those reluctant covers the least occupant, laziness takes over the other work… but with your might and focus,
Demons I will bring out the demons in you I will close the trenches and make The demons feed in you They will feel what it’s like for…
Heaven will be glad and passionate… for hell could not bare in comfort Of some delicate souls prayer woul… So will earth cruse blissfully una… that flesh will rot with clothes,…
