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Fuck it;)

Word smith an unintelligent gun smith power lives, in the sound between your lips so girls bend your hips just jokes so, Netflix and chill, ...

Thursday, 3 October 2019

Peer through.

Peer through drawn curtains
as peers throw their own personal burdens
self project all directions, though the aim is anything but random
so stay atop the stairs, a silent witness on the landing
hating, reflecting the times they landed the hits
gave back and crowded with the stomping kicks
primary made, a foundation of grounded bricks.

Walk on out to see actions embraced, understood
smiling faces viewed from under mud
unearthed, gave birth to, vile eyes in a disgusting disguise
bile filled lies loathing the standing living size
becomes a comfortable home within the mind
talking to cannibals as they dine on someone's lost behind
calm blood splattered conversation, although nonaligned
until redefined, within the encapsulating decline of the realistic design.