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john-edward-smallshawPoems
The light began to dim because the oil was running low and the morning came a creeping up as if I didn't know, never meant to be the stranger I am Tonto to the Sunshine Ranger. Invincible I am the storm reap me, read me in the early morn. In spite of me I write of me my protestation is but the denunciation of previous wrongs and the megalo' in me dressed as Romeo sees the spotlight on me as I put on the one man show. Behind these masks there are certain deeds and tasks of which I shall not mention. Against the rule of Isaac Balzac vitamin A and Prozac I would tack this to the end but the end is yet to be and in this the truth could be nothing more than ripened Brie ( nice to spread upon your bread, but fit for nothing else) I would be a Jane but I am John also a Christian and how do I carry on this thread? What I see inside is beyond me as fathomless as a bottomless sea I never understood how could I? the third eye is blind. Between the cemetery and the library a sign that reads, here lies my poetry RIP. .
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May 28, 2018
May 28, 2018 at 12:09 PM UTC
Building the Ark mk 2
The light began to dim because the oil was running low and the morning came a creeping up as if I didn't know, never meant to be the stranger I am Tonto to the Sunshine Ranger. Invincible I am the storm reap me, read me in the early morn. In spite of me I write of me my protestation is but the denunciation of previous wrongs and the megalo' in me dressed as Romeo sees the spotlight on me as I put on the one man show. Behind these masks there are certain deeds and tasks of which I shall not mention. Against the rule of Isaac Balzac vitamin A and Prozac I would tack this to the end but the end is yet to be and in this the truth could be nothing more than ripened Brie ( nice to spread upon your bread, but fit for nothing else) I would be a Jane but I am John also a Christian and how do I carry on this thread? What I see inside is beyond me as fathomless as a bottomless sea I never understood how could I? the third eye is blind. Between the cemetery and the library a sign that reads, here lies my poetry RIP. .
john-edward-smallshaw
Written by
john-edward-smallshaw
70/English
May 28, 2018
May 28, 2018 at 12:09 PM UTC
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