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this is for the classy ones that dance alone on tables of glass, and the evil greed that breathes in you some night. do you feel healthy? don’t get lost in the woods, don’t eat after twelve at night, you will suffer the next day. people, crowds of beaten people, lost in the womb of the globe. peace will never win, peace seems to be dead these days. and you will fight the great fight of living and the touch and the feeling of greatness will come someday. skin deep in the wet dirt and the fresh grass it means something to someone and to another it’s horseshit. the living skin wins again. winning isn’t something good you know.
0
Nov 3, 2013
Nov 3, 2013 at 11:15 PM UTC
that torture of living skin
this is for the classy ones that dance alone on tables of glass, and the evil greed that breathes in you some night. do you feel healthy? don’t get lost in the woods, don’t eat after twelve at night, you will suffer the next day. people, crowds of beaten people, lost in the womb of the globe. peace will never win, peace seems to be dead these days. and you will fight the great fight of living and the touch and the feeling of greatness will come someday. skin deep in the wet dirt and the fresh grass it means something to someone and to another it’s horseshit. the living skin wins again. winning isn’t something good you know.
poem poetry prose free verse
Johnbeetlelives
Written by
Nov 3, 2013
Nov 3, 2013 at 11:15 PM UTC
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