Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Jun 2017
Hitting bedrock in my bedroom
Doom ahead, letting ******* led soon
Boom through my head shred, spread gloom
Fool enticed by his own admission
On a mission to set to fruition
Either nightmare or a dream
Not sure yet if he's **** or cream
But quick to jump on sucker who thinks he's lean.
Fleeing from battle that he seems to have been in.
He thinks he'***** his stride
Pridefuly say, that his opponents just die
Living in a dazzling, sugered up lie
Thinking on a fly about how not to cry
If somebody sly may notice and apply
The logic that he's shrine is not that divine.
Written by
Zelos7
202
 
Please log in to view and add comments on poems