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T R S
Poems
Oct 2019
Cast upon a piece-built fate.
Bleeding in a park bench,
Up you're ***.
Upended fast it the
Wrought-bent, upset,
Tortured-tilted dealing.
Sickened, ******, packed-apart narcissists
had held hate.
And placated nauseous fates.
Saddened.
Dicked apart.
Showed fascism and
hell-soaked ramen noodle dealings.
Really, I don't care.
But I rather have a hope,
than care about improper,
unhopeful, lawyer-made dealings.
Written by
T R S
29/M
(29/M)
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