Pretty words painted to,souls,of mass production
Warm colors ignite the keyhole of secret exploding secrets,left behind the locked,doors
Guck that
**** rhyming to and melting words to produce something special to the poets themselves something so important that they selves think it's truly a masterpiece
**** that
Pain is pain
It burns different colors at different times
I want the truth
The bottom line not painted in pretty positive picture as it still sits behind the secret locked doors of secrets
I want to know
Bottom line
**** it,
Just want the truth
Plain and simple words will do