Tribulations and my afflictions are misery
This cryptic, ironic, depiction is misery.
-
The warmth of the sanguine is never in me
The cold cells of mine are dead, are misery.
-
What would it take to ever **** me?
Perhaps, if only one thing, misery.
-
What is a sickness without remedy?
It is a malignant growth of misery.
-
Verification of my friend, my enemy,
Certainly my brother, my nemesis misery.
-
Confidence is precedence in my virility,
Verily infecting, lacerating misery.
-
I, Andrew, deny that ever woe could have been me,
Although I surrender, I succumb to misery.
Jan 20, 2013
Jan 20, 2013 at 12:06 AM UTC
Tribulations and my afflictions are misery
This cryptic, ironic, depiction is misery.
-
The warmth of the sanguine is never in me
The cold cells of mine are dead, are misery.
-
What would it take to ever **** me?
Perhaps, if only one thing, misery.
-
What is a sickness without remedy?
It is a malignant growth of misery.
-
Verification of my friend, my enemy,
Certainly my brother, my nemesis misery.
-
Confidence is precedence in my virility,
Verily infecting, lacerating misery.
-
I, Andrew, deny that ever woe could have been me,
Although I surrender, I succumb to misery.
Request permission to use this poem