Sickness

ShynerShyner Posts: 1,226
edited January 2018 in Poetry, Prose, Music & Art
Your weapon is oppression
It will fade like your ammo
What a waste of time
It will change for mine
On towards a storm
Weathered like a torn acl
I will climb the mountain
Giving myself to hell
Just to be with you
Lol the write is left
And then there's nothing
Post edited by Shyner on

Comments

  • ShynerShyner Posts: 1,226
    Dear shyner,
      Sick of ya hon. I've read books and written poems that make you look like a lost child literally. 
    Take your whining down the road jack. 
    Don't come back. 
    I mean shananana shananana heyheyhey goodbye
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