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some people think about their poetry I know many do, to make sure the  the 3rd and 4th rhyme to make sure all there lines sing in time But I have no time for that Im thousands of years old but bearly 17 so ill blurt and ill slur and ill cringe and ill howl and ill snip and ill snap and splurt and curse, I'll walk my fingers to the key board and take of their leashes, let them run wild in the dog park of my sanity my ramblings, they don't need any s                                       t                                      r                                    u                                   c                                      t                                        u                                           r                                              e, nor do my sentences need to make sense why would I conform To YOUR insanity when I have my own band brewing like a bathtub bomb Nothing I say needs to work as hard as my hands do nothing I need to do should feel as heavy as the souls i carry in my broken-strapped-bad-backed-back-pack my alliteration literally doesn't need to alliterate its meaning and I'm so Tired of Ideas being steam pressed into my head by the maid that runs this mad house you'll need to use your hands to eat this poem , I've turned the cutlery into toy soldiers and their currently occupied in overseas service so dig into my mind ill open the front door for you just please remember before you scoop out my brain w   a    s     h        y          o            u              r                  h                    a                      n                        d                            s      LG
0
Mar 23, 2015
Mar 23, 2015 at 4:30 PM UTC
My writing is my own,
some people think about their poetry I know many do, to make sure the  the 3rd and 4th rhyme to make sure all there lines sing in time But I have no time for that Im thousands of years old but bearly 17 so ill blurt and ill slur and ill cringe and ill howl and ill snip and ill snap and splurt and curse, I'll walk my fingers to the key board and take of their leashes, let them run wild in the dog park of my sanity my ramblings, they don't need any s                                       t                                      r                                    u                                   c                                      t                                        u                                           r                                              e, nor do my sentences need to make sense why would I conform To YOUR insanity when I have my own band brewing like a bathtub bomb Nothing I say needs to work as hard as my hands do nothing I need to do should feel as heavy as the souls i carry in my broken-strapped-bad-backed-back-pack my alliteration literally doesn't need to alliterate its meaning and I'm so Tired of Ideas being steam pressed into my head by the maid that runs this mad house you'll need to use your hands to eat this poem , I've turned the cutlery into toy soldiers and their currently occupied in overseas service so dig into my mind ill open the front door for you just please remember before you scoop out my brain w   a    s     h        y          o            u              r                  h                    a                      n                        d                            s      LG
Actualityandfalseness
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Mar 23, 2015
Mar 23, 2015 at 4:30 PM UTC
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