sometimes
a beautiful girl
is only beautiful
until she opens her **** mouth,
stupidity is this generation's plague

who is more nothing
his hands in weakness(halfsmall grinning)
slightly

parting on a cigarette
brinded by
a tree shade

he skinny
his arms
toyish
mewling
to cup in
their crooks
a drop
of the sun

and
be

        warm


     againitisWINTER)

Being poor,
Has become a certainty for me,
I have rejected my dad's money
To go off on my own
And how do I survive it?
I can survive because
I'd **** and eat your family's
Precious little dog
Before I'd let myself starve

i told you i could write something for you,
and you didn't believe me,
so when i showed you my fancy script,
the dotted i's and crossed t's,
you looked at me like i was crazy
to have named a poem after you,
and well,
maybe,
i am