Oh hell,
A firework hit the moon.
That means the tides are *******.
You kissed my soul with a purple balloon.
And so you ******* the alien.
Then the sun rose on eastern shores.
Surely not!
And the planet's corrupted by phoney power play.
Checkers and draughtsman.
Children sand huntsmen.
Spiders that play games taunting lizards.
In red hot desserts, where vulture soar.
Past the moon what got hit.
The tide's inverted and the gooneys play on pebble dashed beach.
Dreams imploded.
Out of reach!
(c)LIVVI