I must say
Though I am
Just a suthsayer
Not supersain
But this I say here
With a beer (non alcoholic)
In my hand
There are to
Types of memories
Milfs :
Memories I’d like to forget
And then there
Are glimmers:
The real good stuff
That you should remember
But I am just saying
Human to human
As a starseed
Not a supersayen

There once was a fish named Deb.
Who lived in a nice simple fish bowl of water.
She enjoyed her decorations and swim happily but didn't know
if she was hurting the humans around her with water. As she grew and grew the more panicked people got
and soon they had to switch Fish bowls to
the aquariums to the point where they could no longer afford them
soon the fish died because it grew In unsanitary conditions.
Poor deb.

I walk the line between life and death
This apple's rotten, rotten to the core
Get up, get up, off your knees
Get down, get down, on the floor!
I walk the line
I walk the line
I walk the line
Between life and death
My business is a little clock and scythe
I drink so much I don't walk I merely stagger!
No you wouldn't listen & I don't blame you
No I don't blame ya!
I walk the line
I walk the line
I walk the line
I walk the line
Between life and death
My rent is 30 a day
I can't move
You know that's the price you pay
Is life all in vain?
Starts off in my arm
Opens up my brain
I'm already in the gutter -
Next stop is the morgue!
I walk the line
I walk the line
I walk the line
I walk the line
Between life and death
Live fast, die old
Live fast, die old
I walk the line
Death
I walk the line
I walk the line
I walk the line
I walk the line
Between life and death
While others have been thinking about it - I've been there and back
Hall and here
I walk the line
I walk the line
I walk the line
I walk the line
Between life and death

I am always all over the emotion
Wheel when I am creating
And spilling ink
As I feel the full scope of the
Emotions
Like carrying a child to term
It is joyous and painful
And yet I do it every **** day

As I spill my ink
I feel like an octopus
Ink every where
But I still have to design that
Tattoo
And write this poem
Though painful at times
Emotionally
It will be well with
The spilled ink

Spilled ink
Isn’t about tattoos but it is
About pain and emotion
The feeling that get spilled
In the creative process
But will be a pain to
Repair that is spilled ink
When you  put your heart
In everything

These are the words that I despise
I shall not tell you
What words
Nor why I hate these words
For they are
Hateful
Evil
And
Just plain stupid
To say
Why do people say offensive
Slurs
I will never know