By Arcassin Burnham




I admit I had a minor form of mentally,
Facing my fears and not caring,
At least attending not to,
Garden veggies that are very unsanitary,
Pealing millions of faults,
But no stars are there,
Spliffing as much smoke as you can,
You haven't gave condensation a chance,
Or evaporation,
Therefore it rains,
And your stuck,
Umbrellas won't save you,
I admit that I adored you.