"cabage" poems
I never feel down in the morning
Yet I don't participate and
Continue to complain every day
That I've yet to live,
Sure I'm living
But I'm not living,
I'm the drifting drag that
You really hate talking to,
This gets annoying most of the time
And I should really stop all this self-loathing,
Problem is it's the only excuse I have
For doing nothing,
I can't let that go
Else I'll be a cabage full of cowardness,
Dealing with one too many problems.
Mr.Problematic Me needs to fix a few things.
Oct 29, 2016
Oct 29, 2016 at 2:14 AM UTC
My *** Walt Whitman & Ginsberg inc.
I didnt **** off!
I didnt eye tea black boys
Tonite my *** Yes da one
And ubiflated cabage cloud
Hipped out like blue
Trowsetes
Died acidiniated
Lying greenish like salmon
Pink milk
***** sweat pull
Blacked
With satin smooth fantasy
I rotted likeke pecked tomatoes.
******* and left acient in prune meat.
By pass products of crates bigger
Like patatoe famine
Off of grain
Feeding stock bull fabrics.
Letrexaxing condense
As is strangers mated publicly.
Sep 9, 2015
Sep 9, 2015 at 5:32 AM UTC