I know someone
Who speaks in riddles
Got tall tales to tell
Got time to spit
Got nothing to give
I smell the jasmine and my head spins
When it's all done
Where have I been
Will you find me?
I can't be here
anymore
please
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PEDESTRIAN PROTECTION
Scratchboard decadence, scrawlplank poetry.
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1 comment:
I'm curious why you didn't break the lines up. It runs together like a frenetic dream-state that way.
Implacable emotionality's often that way though I suppose.
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