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Feb 2018 · 266
Ghetto Moth
K Feb 2018
We all have the same hood story about sour milk struggling mothers and pain. Even I Got tired of eating crumbs my brother moved weight ended up lost in the gold of the street lights chains on his neck got him weighted over the hustle and escaping now,  Who knows if I'll end up like my brother who hungers for the street lights like a moth
Feb 2018 · 309
Sirens
K Feb 2018
Young pretty bodies in the night
Nobody can hear their bodies drop
You see it's only night  when the birds
Go to cry  so you can feel the wind behind in each flap of wings
As pretty bodies lie in the night as the moonshines little truth
Beaks  open wide to the sky and screech
no sound is heard that's taken
Young pretty bodies don't move but they do preform until it's to late
Claws scratch flesh  in shadows as last breathes are passed in the middle of the night

— The End —