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STLR Nov 2016
I don't give a **** about shining, staying fresh to death nor reclining

I Just stay rhyming, grinding,finding my inner beast within rooms of my brains asylum

Silence often brings peace, hope this piece can cover my eyelids, then take me to a place where my patience won't turn to violence.

Goodness gracious, these ******* Pirates,Two-Time Bosses stay sliding these hours straight from my time slip.

I hope their ******* time slips, I hope their hours turn to days and when their day's end! their hair will turn gray, I say **** minimum wage, I'll spray lyrical waves upon a crowd before I bath in another hourly trade.

These hours just seem to shave, Potential and pure persistent, a minute is but a grain I'm a slave to its pure existence.

It's funny how we perceive time as these simple digits, that's, past, present, and future now watch as my presents given.
Nickols Nov 2012
"Go forth, little one." I said as I reached my hand up-towards the heavens. A single **** escapes my unclasped hands towards the sky, and then beyond. Soaring tactfully on the cool breeze.
"You're free at last." And at that very moment, the last of my ***** were given.

© Victoria

— The End —