….Have crack babies come into power, one would think cause the bar is now set at our trousers, make a grown man yell yowzers, we working more hours, said the man as he cowers to darker powers, that’s now set high on top of towers, past any clouds or showers. It’s a new world but where’s Milton Berle, a sense of humor in place of this tumor, where’s my groomer, I should’ve been born sooner, when all the easy scores was locked behind doors, and angels had dirty faces, everyone knew their place’s, especially if they had darker faces. Confusion is bruising, can make one start using, and prematurely think they can start choosing.
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Author:
EvenwheniLie (Pseudonym) (
Offline) - Published: November 10th, 2023 03:07
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 4
- Users favorite of this poem: Cedrick
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Comments1
Woe unto them that call good evil and evil good; that put darkness for light, and light for darkness, that put bitter for sweet and sweet for bitter!
The pitfalls of a philosophical creature.
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