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john-edward-smallshawPoems
Comments to cut in,to but in and blank empty spaces where faces should be and what does it mean? **** all to me. Say what you want and do what you will but until you have walked in my shoes, just lose yourself in the crowd, choose the words to use and if you can't use them wisely,don't use them, and what are they worth? **** all. And if you don't say it clear,say it loud,come out from the shadows and put faces to names, then it's all games. A run around,a turn about to disappear into the space you seem to fear, and me, well I'm not here,I'm just some writing on a wall worth less than ****** all, should I care to worry or to fret? my bet is no. It will go on until it stops, until my ears pop and my heart implodes and my eyes end up at the end of my nose, but then I'll see and I'll see what it all meant to me which is not much, a touch of ink,a link to a site,a waiting through night 'til the morning flies in,a pain in the arse,a bit of a farce but continue I will. And time can do handstands or stay still, I don't really care because it's not me that's there, I'm off on my jaunts to old places,new haunts and I couldn't give a fiddlers elbow whether you come or you decide to go, whether you read me or not. But this is me this is what I've got, which is a *** to **** in and an ear to listen, get used to it or not.
0
Oct 25, 2013
Oct 25, 2013 at 8:38 AM UTC
Stung
Comments to cut in,to but in and blank empty spaces where faces should be and what does it mean? **** all to me. Say what you want and do what you will but until you have walked in my shoes, just lose yourself in the crowd, choose the words to use and if you can't use them wisely,don't use them, and what are they worth? **** all. And if you don't say it clear,say it loud,come out from the shadows and put faces to names, then it's all games. A run around,a turn about to disappear into the space you seem to fear, and me, well I'm not here,I'm just some writing on a wall worth less than ****** all, should I care to worry or to fret? my bet is no. It will go on until it stops, until my ears pop and my heart implodes and my eyes end up at the end of my nose, but then I'll see and I'll see what it all meant to me which is not much, a touch of ink,a link to a site,a waiting through night 'til the morning flies in,a pain in the arse,a bit of a farce but continue I will. And time can do handstands or stay still, I don't really care because it's not me that's there, I'm off on my jaunts to old places,new haunts and I couldn't give a fiddlers elbow whether you come or you decide to go, whether you read me or not. But this is me this is what I've got, which is a *** to **** in and an ear to listen, get used to it or not.
john-edward-smallshaw
Written by
john-edward-smallshaw
70/English
Oct 25, 2013
Oct 25, 2013 at 8:38 AM UTC
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