There's no one around to soak up the disgust
So I will, as my metal skin turns to rust
Your rain hits my earth
My life gives new birth
And through time will it unravel.
Here's a toast, buttered for the taste
To soften the blow of the time you'll waste
You cook my head
I burn your bed
Of buds livin la vida de angustia.
Where's the hope we worked on forever
When did we take it apart together
Your words
My math
Etching in the epitaph.
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Author:
Noah (
Offline) - Published: March 13th, 2018 11:42
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 8
Offline)
Comments1
deep with good flow, rhyme and structure! nice work ww
Thank you ww
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