Fears
I smokeI toke
I will die
And so
Will you.
God willing you said.
When we go
Shall we sing
Songs of I told
You so?
Look at me tapping
Ashes into receptacles
Dead tomorrow you said
With your clean tongue.
I suppose it is clear genetics
And luck
And how you view your
Fears.
Poetry by jenks
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Written on 2010-03-12 at 02:53
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