Oh Carvò Carvò you mindless *****
Why dost thow pen such artless ****
Yes from your artless pen doth grow
Artless work
You are internationally despised
YOUR CHILDISH MIND
So decried by better men than you
And yet... from your rancid pen the crap doth grow
Your artless work, no rhyme no flow
The ***** of an artless mind
You are the lowest of the low
And from your soulless ****
Your inflated ego grows
You pathetic *******
You ******* moronic piece of crap


Hahaha and I rarely swear

My life
Is a constant cycle
Of chasing sleep
And getting tripped
The moment I finally
Catch up.

We say we want to see the light, but yet we hide in the darkness.

I sit here by my crackling fire
surrounded by all that I desire
nature for all
Bacon frying in the pan
coffee in the mug
the morning sun there in the east
small birds fly up above
I sit and I do wonder
how long can this beauty last
against the greed of man
We spew pollution in the air
about acid rain we do not care
for we now have got the cash
Our fair land now ripped by open cast
in our search for coal, for gold for wealth
but that wealth is but for the few
The multitudes who bend their backs
the ones who have the cough that wracks
and tears apart their lungs
still labour for a paltry sum
not for them the holiday in the sun
the bosses can afford
And so for the years that I have left
I will enjoy the nature that is left
BEFORE IT TO IS GONE