Let me die alone in deep, Perhaps, I may take a breath, Don’t see me with hate and hope, Perhaps, I may live.
Since, thee don’t know my pains, So, have not a jot of rains, I have a lot of thoughts Where I Submit? Don’t me tell Perhaps, I may do some well.
To my sobs let bury in me So that world not to see For, these can’t melt thy hearts, And nothing can get from thy hands, For, thee all forgot humanity And laugh at my poverty That is not mine; Let me yell, Perhaps, I may be calm.
It was a freak accident of epithelium under anaesthesia. You place a window on to a hollow brain. The money makes the monkey out of you. A green light blocks the fish, your memory, to swim in black thoughts. The
My boo boo what have we become, I’m so depressed an all alone. I’m desperate and somewhat oppressed, What’s a man to do when he’s distressed. Try to touch you but to no avail, All my efforts are quickly unrailed.
Vane glorious and absolutistic, though I defiantly, cavalierly, and blithely attest Yukon bet your (laugh-in) sweet bippy mine acidic breast houses anarchic, anti-poetic ballistic, barbaric, and bubonic cannibalistic demons within thy safely guarded Pandora chest atomic cesium clock timed to
Look deep my friend and soon you will discover a special assignment for only you The siren song of the bong is strong fuming sacraments to exclusive green parties Tie yourself to the mast deny the hot blast It’s clear-monkeys