get off the sky, sleep being clouds in the throat
500 hammers, 500 seas bent in the pants of u
his charms were strange
i use u like a dead man
with some loose device
i am but this, u cloud
this man, conversation
set to clouds
the music
shows up
the seizure equals a man of of music but blue sky me
if you're me, speak; see no clouds
who is felt somewhat rare and of u
lives falling out of your sky, who fell me
she is 50 the sky liked to cry
i am sorry, night; i am no longer falling
it's ok to fall, pour some hyphens
pour his sky, pour fell out of the world now
2 comments:
Great poem I found it really honest and a little dark, that was probabbly the mood you where in when you wrote it or it is how you are
thank you, probably all of the above and then some
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