Please darker, darker please
Straight as the mirror.reject, reflect.
That's strange.
There's a stranger.
he left his gun
in the lonesome alley.
go up for the stair
and you find the dealer.
he give you a stain.
for a price.
but it doesnt matter
youre already whole.
and feel like a whore.
just like a mirror..
detect, reflect.
i feel like... ah i'm
afraid, to be too easy
on my hand in the
last crucial moment
and fail....
over and over again.
Please darker,
darker please...
she bought a house...
felt self-secured the
fire in her heart, burnt
the whole house down
to the ground.
i feel fucked in every
hole, not on a dirty way
tough, just i got these
problems to express
myself it seem.
torn in pieces...
but it wasn't the truth
i saw.
cigarette burns.
who can get the most
before he dries out.
dry dye die die die.
Poetry by asshole
Read 666 times
Written on 2007-07-10 at 03:02
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