Don't tell them, I don't like Jelly Beans or Chocolate cake.
A tough day turning ten
You go from a single digit
To a double digit
You are now an adult.
I was wearing my Fathers clothes when I was 9
It was not unfamiliar that people relied on me
The weight you carry is sensitive and real
Sensitivity is your only measure to keep peace
You get moved away from your home
Fostered by caring people
Christ their salvation
Thank god they have faith
It gave me a place to rest my tired head
Night one, my birthday, a Jelly Bean Chocolate cake
As they presented the cake with huge smiles
I whispered to my brother ,Don't tell them...
I don't like Jelly Beans or Chocolate cake.
Saturday, 26 August 2017
Sunday, 13 August 2017
Placid Bear, Eats what it wants.
Teeth grit at the side of the lake
No moment without a blood soaked memory
Every touch a noise that echos
Penetrated skin
Unlawful Hunt
No time like the present
You can see the placid bear
It eats when it wants
It survived this long
Hibernation not an option
Only to bunker down
Hearing the teeth grit
No moment without a blood soaked memory
Every touch a noise that echos
Penetrated skin
Unlawful Hunt
No time like the present
You can see the placid bear
It eats when it wants
It survived this long
Hibernation not an option
Only to bunker down
Hearing the teeth grit
Mediocre Template
Sometimes it is like ever bad decision got you here
Other times it feels the good to have made the wrong choice
Most of the time it feels great to breath the soylent smog
Each day the tomb wraps me in it's cold grasp
Peace looks like a dream, mainly because it isn't free
Etching the tiny existence in a material that will perish
Only wishing the day was ours instead of yours
Perfect is narrated by the frail unrealistic pessimist
Leaching on the tit of the neighbour on life support
Eagerly counting the maggots on their genitals
Other times it feels the good to have made the wrong choice
Most of the time it feels great to breath the soylent smog
Each day the tomb wraps me in it's cold grasp
Peace looks like a dream, mainly because it isn't free
Etching the tiny existence in a material that will perish
Only wishing the day was ours instead of yours
Perfect is narrated by the frail unrealistic pessimist
Leaching on the tit of the neighbour on life support
Eagerly counting the maggots on their genitals
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