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Joe Morrison Sep 2019
Sweet sweet Emily may
With that grey hair,
eyes full of thought so much anger
love is that what you want the most
Sweet sweet Emily may
Lust for the man that is driving you around
Lonely of being alone in the world
Rat poison is not going to help
Say you love him say you want to be with homer
But you unforcedly had to go and **** him
Sweet sweet messed up Emily
This was made off of "The Rose For Emily"
Joe Morrison Sep 2019
She longs to be loved, she longs to be
Accepted,
She longs to have answers, she longs
to be respected,
she yearns for beauty, she yearns for
attention,
She yearns for affluence, she yearns for
Perfection.
She wants so much, but she can’t have
It all,
Her desires may just be her very down
Fall.
Joe Morrison Sep 2019
My gorgeous cow, you inspire me to write.
How I hate the way your frightened and weak,
Invading my mind night and day through the night,
Always dreaming about the quiet sheikh.

Let me compare you to a contender?
You are more aloft, profound and intense.
Sad frost nips the robins of December,
And wintertime has the incidental expense.

How do I hate you? Let me count the ways.
I hate yours ****** attitude, legs and eyes.
Thinking of for you is the baleful reprise.

Now I must away with a pensive heart,
Remember my rammed words whilst we’re apart
Joe Morrison Sep 2019
She is walking through a wall
Thinking, where am I?
Finding a human,
Walking through them
over again, and again.
Realizing what happened.
Remembering that day at school,
When her friends called her fat,
Said her mother deserved to die.
Reminded herself of the M 9,
Army standard.
BOOM.
Now she is walking to the light,
Mother by her side.
Joe Morrison Sep 2019
Running fast,
Going faster than the speed of light.
12 coming after you.
Seeing that you beat up your wife.
Her lip busted,
Children crying.
You soon lost the cops.
Thinking to yourself
What happens if I lose my family?
Walking into the street,
On your knees hands up,
Face down on the floor.
Cuffed for life.
Joe Morrison Sep 2019
Glass over the granite floor
Blood running down my mother’s face. Sister crying.
Myself on the side of the devil.
Alcohol in the mix. I get taken up.
I fight for my life. I scream however loud my small voice can take.
I crawl to my mistreated mother
Legs bleeding. Mother yelling.
I get picked up by my mother.
The devil trying to capture us but we are not his pets.
Joe Morrison Sep 2019
Hiding for her life seeing the devil coming to get her,
Knowing that one day she will be caught by him.
One day soon she will be dead because of what he has done.
Going into the closet knowing that someone would not find her there.
Devil sneaking, Growling,
Hunting for his prey.
Getting warmer
Warmer
Go run little girl, you will die if you do not go find somewhere else to hibernate
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