Dec 2016
I grew from a tree...
Into a beautiful beast
I grew to believe...
That my lean to the east
Was due to the sun
But every other tree was straight
I picked up a gun...
And cleaned the slate
Into a beautiful beast
I grew to believe...
That my lean to the east
Was due to the sun
But every other tree was straight
I picked up a gun...
And cleaned the slate
Work in progress
