Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Apr 2020
It was mine, such a pretty dime driven in time, funny how the sun shuns puns gunning its shine, what you're seeing we must still define, running in line, we called it fine till we skipped our grip so tripping brought scripts of crime, the curse just reversed the vine, died when sipping wine, tried divine ***, minds hex, the next sublime rhyme, so rewind when I grind to share my spine, tear it and don't repair it, wear my carrots to spare the dime.
Written by
Cyclone  22/M/Houston, TX
(22/M/Houston, TX)   
120
     Holly D and Cyclone
Please log in to view and add comments on poems