By Arcassinburnham



Tears of joy or tears of anger,
What have I gotten myself into,
This feelings getting stranger,
The minutes turning blue,
Sometimes I might be real filthy,
And when I do the arousal start to kick in,
Just to feel utter licking,
Of some female pen,
And I as I write on the paper,
Signed with my feelings,
Bottle of *****, might just save this for later,
But the more she keeps ignoring me,
With myself thinking about killings,
Midnight comes,
The clock strikes twelve,
Demons come out to play,
Swimming in brain cells,
Losing my brain cells,
Then the next day , growing new ones,
Wanted you to ring the bell,
Something we could tell our grandsons,
I love you so much it hurts,
Knife deep in the lung,
She put wool over my eyes,
Nothing she could have done,
Midnight comes,
And the clock strikes twelve,
Sometimes the demons make these mends,
I swear I can't pretend,
That your not even there,
For you its not the end of us,
Do you know how much I care?

Man.......

I've been drinking too much.......