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ashby-brownPoems
Allude across form Describe dimming Rhythm wrinkled dust Torn to terrorized pieces A shot In the dark Is still A shot Whose war have we Stumbled stiffly into This time? An arbitrary anecdote Awarded after the first hand For freedom rises Forming first that no man Will willfully ever choose to be last Soldier's of sacrifice Hollering hum drum Whistling for Wendy's crotches Notoriety noting only Reasoning to write to be read Where genius is measured By the breaking of borders And one's ability to live through A notable drug addiction Cards care-free in their massacre Wink while the waitress spills Her high-ball on the suit pants Of an ***** obsessed lawyer Sure to be sued one day By the government The outside world Is highly uninterested In whatever problems The ego may have Conjured up this Monday The artist whines as the Dirtied laundry of childhood Dries stiff, fading into a Stain reminiscent of a dream The mirror reflects the sun Into my bedroom as I wake To the sights of a world bent On creating its own Armageddon Helpless At the moment I think about rent The cost Where to get it And head back To my Bed
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Aug 6, 2012
Aug 6, 2012 at 4:10 PM UTC
The Small Circumferences of Big Problems
Allude across form Describe dimming Rhythm wrinkled dust Torn to terrorized pieces A shot In the dark Is still A shot Whose war have we Stumbled stiffly into This time? An arbitrary anecdote Awarded after the first hand For freedom rises Forming first that no man Will willfully ever choose to be last Soldier's of sacrifice Hollering hum drum Whistling for Wendy's crotches Notoriety noting only Reasoning to write to be read Where genius is measured By the breaking of borders And one's ability to live through A notable drug addiction Cards care-free in their massacre Wink while the waitress spills Her high-ball on the suit pants Of an ***** obsessed lawyer Sure to be sued one day By the government The outside world Is highly uninterested In whatever problems The ego may have Conjured up this Monday The artist whines as the Dirtied laundry of childhood Dries stiff, fading into a Stain reminiscent of a dream The mirror reflects the sun Into my bedroom as I wake To the sights of a world bent On creating its own Armageddon Helpless At the moment I think about rent The cost Where to get it And head back To my Bed
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ashby-brown
Aug 6, 2012
Aug 6, 2012 at 4:10 PM UTC
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