The MotionlessWinter eased in the high-strung fog Which settled through. All played along, Then gossiped Blue on a veiled night, All with tones of an icy fright.The Motionless
Begged less for a timed beam soaked through And crystalline pane of Home Brew.
This wanton mass echoed a sound, Laid frost bitten, in Agony bound.
Once red Youth haunted mad, unknown, Depth plummeted from Love atoned. A needless trait, a hapless Bind Of studying the rampant minds.
But today the Cold is among
This glowing ember’s yellow sun. Who have forgot
Spring BirdHow does the spring bird, full of folly, throw shillings in the crowd?Spring Bird
To rats, to men, fallen at the knees, in greedy splendor on the ground.
While singing on to curd the weak and swelling in congestion,
the spring bird carries strong a bliss as the kneeling weep possession.
Though why he nourishes such rotten ears, whom I can only pity, it’s only he
in solemn comfort to make their poison gritty.
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Reality leaves alot to the imagination- John Lennon
--
"half-way through your, 'poop cycle' *laughs really hard* you know for your birthday I am going to buy you a plunger."- my dad
"Its not my fault! Mom gave me the poop pills!"-me
--
~>TheExquisiteCorpse [link]
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