"glinks" poems
Flandres, the flag of agony in thee I raise
The bravest scapes thy land survails
In me seek the darkest and the mad man
The sad crab cracks its nest
Against a backdoor saloon chest
My avenue stew mind philanthropy
Resolutions crust signs in my sight
And by my side Rosemary glinks and blides
Preparing my bedroom earing for
The day of the land lord sore
And than again the boots are crooked
The spirit is fulled and dream ain’t no avenue
Scooped you will feel and your brain got to be in a grill
While your smile resents some breakfast lamb
When the door doesn´t call you hence
Your feet ain’t gonna lick the garden fence
Standing there the man and his black cloak
A shield spelling what spells seen to sell
Glasses clink telling whatever you ain’t bring
To the ceremony that makes you feel lonely
Chain your pony slowly for it’s holy
Now hear the voice in a big bang noise
Shooting swords like darts of joke
Seeking and begging thrilling candies
Whispering the grace, listen Sam, the grey taste
It’s your blamed race and it's you the same.
Oct 11, 2011
Oct 11, 2011 at 4:42 PM UTC