My mind roams through a wilderness
Of imagination,
Only to reach a wrought-iron wall
At my lips.
The filters of polite society won't let me
Speak,
Won't let me scream ********
To their soft-mannered prejudices
That gather in the bottom of glasses of
Expensive champagne.
Apr 18, 2014
Apr 18, 2014 at 8:06 PM UTC
My mind roams through a wilderness
Of imagination,
Only to reach a wrought-iron wall
At my lips.
The filters of polite society won't let me
Speak,
Won't let me scream ********
To their soft-mannered prejudices
That gather in the bottom of glasses of
Expensive champagne.
